ANGELAS  QUES 


LILIAN  BELL 


ANGELA'S  QUEST 


As  Ayres  bent  over  Angela,  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face. 


ANGELA'S  QUEST 


BY 

LILIAN   BELL 

Author  of  "The  Expatriates,"  "Abroad  with 
the  Jimmies,"  "Caroline  Lee,"  etc. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY  A.  B.  WENZEL 


NEW  YORK 
DUFFIELD   &   CO 

1910 


COPYHIOHT,    1910, 

BY  DUFFIELD  &  CO. 


TIT!  PREMIER   PREM 
KEW  YORK 


To 
FLORENCE  PULLMAN  LOWDEN 


2134564 


CONSENTS 

CHAPTER 

I.  ANONYMOUS     .      .     •..-.    .     .     >     .     .  7 

II.  MIDNIGHT  IN  THE  CHAPEL     ....  14 

III.  ANGELA   PLANS  TO   OVERHEAR     ...  23 

IV.  iWHAT    ANGELA    HEARD    THROUGH    THE 

EEGISTEB   .     >. 26 

iV.  ANGELA'S  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  HOME     .     .  31 

VI.  THE  ARBDTHNOTS    .    >:   • 39 

VII.  ANGELA  IN  DISGUISE 51 

VIII.  ANGELA  FINDS  HER  MOTHER  ....  59 

IX.  MAMMY  TELLS  HER  STORY     ....  67 

X.  ANGELA  FINDS  A  FRIEND 78 

XL  THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  WRECKED  TRAIN  87 

XII.  IN  WHICH  FATE  LEADS  TRUMPS     ...  98 

XIII.  THE  TURN  OP  THE  DIE 101 

XIV.  THE  FIRST  CLUE    ..     >, 108 

XV.  THE  HOUSE  OF  DISCORD 114 

XVI.  WITH   THE  MASK   OFF 120 

XVII.  THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CHINESE  EYES     .  134 

XVIII.  THE  ARBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA     .     .     .  155 

XIX.  THE  ATOM  AND  THE  POWERS     .     .     .  165 

XX.  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 178 

XXI.  DON  EAFAEL  AND  THE  CUB  EEPORTER     .  194 

XXII.  THE  FLIGHT     . 215 

XXIII.  THE  LEAVEN  OF  SELFLESSNESS     .     .     .  224 

XXIV.  THE  AWAKENING  OF  ANGELA    ....  231 
XXV.  THE  SLAVE  OF  PASSION 239 

XXVI.  ON  THE  HIGH  SEAS .253 

XXVII.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAPTAIN'S  BRIDGE  261 

XXVIII.  Two  WIVES  270 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

As  Ayres  bent  over  Angela,   she   lifted  her  eyes  to 

his  face Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Angela  and  her  mother  met  every  day     ....  88 

The   thoroughly   cowed  woman  felt   her  way  along 

the  wall  134 


ANGELA'S  QUEST 


History  began  to  make  for  Ayres  Arbuttinot 
when  Angela  Yorke  flung  herself  on  her  face  in 
the  St.  Ursula  Foundling's  Home,  and  listened 
through  the  register  to  voices  in  the  visitors'  room 
below — voices  discussing  her  fate. 

To  be  sure  Ayres  was  but  a  junior  at  Harvard 
and  had  not  then  dreamed  of  the  career  which 
was  to  make  him  famous,  in  spite  of  his  being  the 
son  of  a  man  noted  mostly  for  the  number  of  his 
millions,  while  poor  little  Angela  was  but  a  long- 
legged  stripling  of  a  girl,  with  no  beauty  except 
large  eyes,  set  gloriously  far  apart  under  a  low 
brow  of  exquisite  outline,  and  two  thick  ropes  of 
auburn  hair  which  she  herself  abhorred. 

This  boy  and  girl  were  not  destined  to  meet  and 
fall  in  love  with  each  other  for  some  time  to  come. 
Nevertheless  the  loom  of  life  which  was  weaving 
the  web  of  their  destinies,  groaned  and  creaked 
and  began  its  monotonous  clicking  in  the  moment 
when  Angela's  soul  revolted  at  the  taunt  of 
"  Foundling  "  hurled  at  her  by  a  novitiate  in  the 
convent  adjoining.  . 

Angela,  passionate  little  Protestant  that  she 
was,  never  looked  longingly  from  the  bare,  ugly 
grounds  of  the  Home  to  the  richly  wooded  slopes 
of  the  Convent,  nor  responded  in  any  way  to. the 
hints  which  were  often  uttered,  that  if  she  were 


8  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

good,  she  might  ultimately  spend  her  life  within 
those  peaceful  white  walls. 

Instead,  she  was  only  restrained  from  verbal 
protests  by  the  fact  that  she  adored  Soeur  Marthe, 
the  sister  who  oftenest  uttered  them. 

French  was  the  language  of  the  convent  and  al- 
though the  foundlings  also  had  the  privilege  of 
learning  the  language  if  they  chose,  few  availed 
themselves  of  it,  whereas  Angela  had  been  re- 
quired to  use  it  from  the  day  she  was  brought 
thither. 

In  several  other  ways  Angela  had  noticed  that 
she  was  treated  differently  from  the  other  in- 
mates, but  never,  until  the  day  when  Sallie  Flack, 
in  a  moment  of  fury,  shouted  the  word  "  Found- 
ling" at  Angela,  had  certain  memories  leaped  to 
life  within  her,  refuting  the  charge  and  calling 
upon  her  own  soul  to  wake  and  seek  out  her  lost 
identity. 

Instantly  she  hurled  herself  against  Soeur 
Marthe  in  a  tumultuous  mental  assault,  in  which 
Angela  vehemently  denied  being  a  foundling  and 
passionately  called  upon  the  older  wroman  for  cor- 
roboration  of  a  feeling  which  her  young  heart  as- 
serted with  all  the  violence  of  an  intuitive  knowl- 
edge, reinforced  by  dim  memories  and  vivid 
dreams. 

Soeur  Marthe  vainly  sought  to  temporise,  but 
the  girl  brushed  aside  the  sister's  attempts  with 
the  virility  of  a  newly  aroused  passion. 

"  You  do  know !  "  cried  Angela  in  shrill  French. 
"  I  sec  it  in  your  eyes  that  you  are  hiding  some- 
thing!" 

Now  Soeur  Marthe  was  a  remarkable  woman, 
even  in  a  church  which  numbers  its  brilliant  minds 
by  scares.  She  had  been  selected  to  guard  Angela 
by  one  much  higher  in  authority  than  the  Mother 


ANONYMOUS  9 

Superior,  for  Angela,  all  unknown  to  herself,  was 
a  precious  charge.  Nevertheless  that  human  na- 
ture which  this  great  church  often  attempts  to 
crush,  especially  in  its  devotees,,  had  been  too  re- 
silient in  the  case  of  Soeur  Marthe,  and  her  love 
for  her  wonderful  little  ward  whose  marvellous 
possibilities  she  alone  apprehended,  was  the  most 
insidious  enemy  the  church  possessed. 

However,  at  the  moment  Angela  asked  her  ques- 
tion, this  love  had  never  been  put  to  the  test  and 
its  strength  was  for  this  reason  unsuspected  by 
Soeur  Marthe  herself.  Therefore,  as  was  her  cus- 
tom, she  endeavoured  to  divert  Angela's  mind. 

"  I  know  nothing ! "  she  declared.  "  You  are  an 
inmate  of  a  Foundling  Home.  All  are  foundlings 
who  are  brought  here.  Why  should  you  suddenly 
think  you  are  different? " 

"  Because  I  can  remember  some  things  which 
the  Mother  Superior  thinks  I  have  forgotten,"  de- 
clared the  girl  boldly.  Yet  she  started  at  the  sis- 
ter's look  of  terror. 

"You  must  not  say  such  things,  child!  Never 
let  any  one  hear  you  say  that  lest  it  go  hard  with 
you ! " 

"  How  could  it  go  any  harder  with  me  than  it 
does?  "  demanded  Angela. 

"  Foolish  one ! "  said  the  sister,  stepping  close 
to  the  girl  and  pretending  to  smooth  her  lovely 
hair.  "  I  stand  between  you  and  many  hardships. 
If  they  knew  all,  they  would  separate  us!  How 
would  you  like  to  sleep  in  the  dormitory  with  all 
the  others? " 

Angela  looked  into  the  wan,  intellectual  face  of 
Soeur  Marthe  with  wide,  questioning,  hazel  eyes, — 
eyes  which  glowed  like  the  warm  brown  in  sherry 
wine. 

"Every  word  you  say  makes  it  plainer  to  me 


10  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

that  I  am  no  foundling,"  she  said.  "  Why  am  I 
the  only  one  who  rooms  with  a  sister?  Why  are 
you  for  ever  at  my  heels?  Why  am  I  not  allowed 
to  go  with  the  girls  of  my  own  age?  Who  always 
sends  me  to  play  with  the  small  children  or  the 
newly  arrived?  I  will  tell  you  something!  It  is 
because  you  are  afraid  I  will  learn  about  myself 
from  the  gossip  of  those  who  were  here  before  I 
came.  You  tried  to  destroy  my  identity.  You 
hoped  to  destroy  my  memory  by  pitching  me  head- 
long into  a  new  language  and  a  new  religion !  But 
you  failed.  I  remember  more  than  you  think. 
Those  first  few  months  of  utter  wretchedness  are 
as  clear  in  my  mind  to-day  as  they  were  while  I 
was  living  in  them.  My  anguish  made  me  old — 
baby  that  I  was!  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  loneli- 
ness I  suffered  those  first  few  months!" 

The  tall  girl  let  the  anger  and  excitement  die 
out  of  her  face  and  in  their  stead  came  a  look  of 
mournful  retrospection.  The  sister  wratched  her 
anxiously. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  you,  dear  Soeur  Marthe," 
said  Angela,  after  a  pause,  "nor  how  good  yon 
were  to  me  when  I  was  so  forlorn  and  miserable. 
It  was  lucky  for  me  that  they  gave  me  to  you.  I 
should  have  hated  any  of  the  others!" 

"  I  have  always  loved  you,  Angela,  my  dearest 
one!  No  one  could  love  you  more.  It  would  kill 
me  to  be  separated  from  you,  yet  if  they  knew 
that,  they  would  take  you  from  me  at  once.  One 
may  not  become  too  warmly  attached  to  any 
earthly  object,  you  know!" 

"  That  is  all  nonsense,  I  think,"  said  Angela, 
smiling.  "  You  know  in  your  heart  that  I  am  not 
a  Catholic,  and  that  I  laugh  at  half  the  things  you 
have  to  do.  Yet  you  do  love  me,  for  you  never  tell 
on  me !  I  would  kiss  you  if  we  were  not  watched ! " 


ANONYMOUS  11 

"  Not  here !  Not  here ! "  said  the  sister  in  a 
nervous  whisper.  Yet  her  pale  face  glowed  with 
delight  at  the  girl's  words. 

"  Do  you  have  to  pretend  to  dislike  the  care  of 
me  in  order  to  keep  me?  "  asked  Angela  curiously. 
"  I  used  to  think  you  meant  it." 

"  If  they  knew "  she  broke  off  and  looked 

around.  "  I  have  always  complained  of  you — al- 
ways! And  for  the  lies  I  have  told,  out  of  my 
love  for  you,  I  do  the  continual  penances  you  ridi- 
cule!" 

"  Not  ridicule,  dear  Soeur  Marthe ! "  said  the 
girl  quickly.  "  I  am.  only  sorry  to  see  you  torture 
your  soul  by  such  stupid  beliefs.  When  you  could 
be  so  happy  loving  me  openly,  if  you  only  dared. 
And  how  clever  you  are !  I  owe  all  that  I  know  to 
you!  You  have  taught  me  languages,  music, 
poetry,  painting,  embroidery  so  fine  that  the  Holy 
Mother  said  it  looked  like  spun  cobwebs — every- 
thing except  arithmetic!  You  could  never  teach 
me  that,  because  the  place  where  that  ought  to  go 
was  left  out  of  my  head  by  whoever  made  me ! " 

"  Angela,  my  child ! " 

"Well,  I  am  not  sure  that  God  did,  for  if  He 
did,  He  surely  would  never  have  made  my  hair 
red  and  made  the  curse  of  it  so  heavy.  A  little  red 
hair  isn't  so  bad!  But  such  a  mane  of  it  as 
mine!  " 

"  God  has  given  you  the  most  beautiful  hair  in 
the  world,"  said  Soeur  Marthe,  gravely.  "  It  rip- 
ples like  shining  copper  to  your  knees.  I  would 
not  let  the  Mother  Superior  see  it  for  the  world." 

"  Why  not?  "  said  Angela. 

"  She  would  make  me  cut  it  off ! "  whispered  the 
nun,  trembling.  "  She  is  waiting  to  discover  the 
thing  I  would  most  dislike  to  do,  in  order  to  give 
it  to  me  as  a  penance ! " 


12  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  I  wouldn't  care ! "  cried  Angela.  "  I  would  be 
glad  to  see  it  go!  Hateful  old  red  thing,"  she 
added,  jerking  at  her  long  braids  viciously. 

"  It  is  growing  darker  every  day,"  said  Soeur 
Marthe,  hastily. 

"Is  it?  Are  you  sure?  Let's  look  at  it  in  the 
sun !  "  said  Angela  anxiously. 

The  two  stepped  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  tree 
and  nearer  to  the  fence  bordering  the  grounds. 
There  was  a  faint  rustling  in  the  grass  outside, 
but  neither  heard  it. 

They  anxiously  examined  the  colour  of  the  thick 
ropes  of  bronze  hair,  whose  curling  tendrils  es- 
caped in  golden  threads  here  and  there. 

"  I  can't  see  it,"  said  Angela.  "  It  seems  to  me 
that  it  stays  the  same  colour.  You  just  say  that 
to  comfort  me." 

"  I  always  wish  to  comfort  you,  my  child,"  said 
the  older  woman,  with  that  sad  dignity  which  al- 
ways reached  Angela's  inner  ear.  "  I  have  loved 
you  as  my  own  for  seven  long  years ! " 

"  Seven  long  years,"  repeated  Angela.  "  Then  I 
must  have  been  only  seven  when  I  was  brought 
here.  Do  you  remember  it?  Did  you  see  who 
brought  me?  Won't  you  try  to  find  out?  You 
know  I  have  a  father  and  mother  somewhere,  don't 
you?  Help  me  to  find  them,  Soeur  Marthe,  with 
your  great  cleverness.  Help  me,  my  mother,  if 
you  love  me ! " 

Angela  knew  that  to  call  Soeur  Marthe,  mother, 
was  to  shake  her  to  the  foundation  of  her  being. 
The  sister  gave  a  little  cry  and  pressed  her  lips  to 
one  of  the  girl's  long  braids. 

"I  will  help  you,"  she  whispered.  Then,  as  if 
fearful  that  the  very  stones  had  ears,  she  cried 
aloud : 

"  No !    There  is  nothing  for  you  to  discover.  You 


ANONYMOUS  13 

are  an  orphan,  and  what  you  believe  you  remember 
is  but  a  dream ! " 

As  usual  Angela  seconded  her,  and  burying  her 
face  in  her  hands,  she  seemed  to  give  way  to  a  bit- 
ter disappointment. 

Suddenly  the  bell  in  the  convent  adjoining  be- 
gan to  strike  twelve,  and  the  two  started  for  the 
house. 

As  they  gradually  drew  out  of  hearing,  a  dark 
shadow  in  the  garb  of  a  nun  lifted  itself  from  a 
hiding  place  outside  the  fence  and  glided  stealthily 
away  down  the  road. 


CHAPTER    II 

MIDNIGHT  IN  THE  CHAPEL 

Two  days  passed  and  nothing  happened. 

On  the  third,  Soeur  Marthe  went,  as  usual,  to 
confession,  but  although  Angela  waited  for  her  re- 
turn, the  hours  passed  by  unheeded. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Angela  was  not 
watched. 

She  waited  about,  lagging  deliciously  over  her 
allotted  tasks.  No  one  hurried  or  admonished  her. 

Suddenly  it  dawned  upon  her  that  she  was  free 
— at  least  for  the  time  being. 

The  feeling  was  so  unusual  as  to  be  almost  a 
menace  to  her  pleasure.  Surely  something  must 
have  happened,  nevertheless  Angela's  flying  feet 
took  her  to  the  least  frequented  part  of  the 
grounds,  where,  under  cover  of  a  hedge,  she  had 
once  seen  a  hole  large  enough  to  crawl  through. 

When  she  came  to  this  spot,  she  found  to  her  dis- 
may, that  the  ground  all  about  it  was  wet  so  that, 
to  make  any  attempt  to  crawl  through,  would 
leave  traces  upon  her  coarse  blue  uniform  which 
would  betray  her  to  the  sisters  and  prevent  her 
ever  utilising  her  knowledge  of  this  road  to 
freedom. 

She  saw  too  that  the  hole  in  its  present  condi- 
tion was  much  smaller  than  when  s}ie  had  first 
discovered  it.  It  would  have  to  be  enlarged,  and 
the  hedge  was  thick  with  briars.  She  decided  not 
to  try,  tingling  though  she  was,  for  a  breath  of 
freedom. 
,  In  this  sturdy  resistance  to  an  impulse  which 

14 


MIDNIGHT   IN   THE    CHAPEL          15 

most  girls  of  her  age  would  have  foolishly  yielded 
to,  and  the  self-controlled  manner  in  which  she 
admitted  the  difficulties,  Angela  set  the  pace  of  all 
her  future,  and  indicated  how  she  would  finally  set 
about  her  long  and  tedious  search,  which  would 
lead  her  far  and  wide  and  test  her  every  faculty 
of  heart  and  mind. 

Reluctantly  she  turned  back,  and  before  she  had 
traversed  half  the  distance,  she  had  cause  to  re- 
joice at  her  decision,  for  coming  toward  her  with 
an  expression  of  placid  malice,  was  Soeur  Valerie, 
the  most  treacherous  sister  of  the  flock,  whose 
very  expression  of  countenance  was  such  that  the 
candid  and  single-hearted  instinctively  shrank 
from  her. 

"  You  are  to  come  with  me,  Angela,"  said  Soeur 
Valerie.  "  Soeur  Marthe  is  performing  a  very  se- 
vere penance,  and  I  am  here  to  take  her  place." 

"  For  how  long?  "  faltered  Angela. 

"  Impertinent  one ! "  snapped  Soeur  Valerie. 
"  For  as  many  days  as  the  Holy  Mother  sees  fit  to 
condemn  her  to  pray  prostrate  in  the  chapel  with- 
out food  or  covering!  And  it  serves  her  right  for 
her  duplicity ! " 

Angela  had  learned  to  dissemble  her  feelings  in 
her  seven  years  of  this  place,  so  not  even  Soeur 
Valerie  saw  the  furious  flash  of  her  great  eyes,  as 
she  walked  slowly  beside  the  gaunt  sister. 

That  night  at  supper  Angela  secreted  her  bread 
in  the  pocket  of  her  gown,  and  apparently  per- 
fectly submissive  to  the  change  in  her  guardians, 
she  obediently  went  through  with  her  tasks  and 
went  to  bed,  where  she  pretended  to  fall  asleep. 

Never  before  had  she  worried  when  Soeur  Mar- 
the had  been  obliged  to  do  penance,  but  to-day 
something  intangible  was  in  the  air,  and  her  sensi- 
tive soul  responded. 


16  ANGELA'S  QUEST 

She  knew  that  Soeur  Valerie  was  a  heavy 
sleeper,  and  no  sooner  had  her  snores  become  reg- 
ular and  vocal,  than  Angela  arose,  and  slipping  on 
the  nun's  black  gown,  she  softly  made  her  way  out 
into  the  corridor,  down  the  stairs,  and  out  into  the 
open. 

What  she  did  was  dangerous,  but  Angela  had 
early  divined  that  she  was  privileged.  Even  if  she 
were  caught,  her  punishment  would  be  no  more 
severe  than  it  had  been  before,  and  such  things 
she  could  stand.  But  she  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  Soeur  Marthe  going  without  her  supper  and 
praying  all  night  lying  flat  on  her  face  on  the  cold 
stones  of  the  chapel  floor. 

Even  as  her  light  feet  flew  over  the  ground,  An- 
gela had  to  stop  to  laugh  as  she  thought  what  a 
figure  she  would  cut  as  she  climbed  in  at  the 
chapel  window  in  her  nun's  garb,  but  she  dared 
not  venture  in  at  the  door. 

»When  she  reached  the  chapel  she  could  see  no 
light.  She  listened  intently,  then  hearing  no 
sound,  she  gently  lifted  the  stained-glass  window 
and  looked  in.  There  before  the  altar  upon  which 
a  single  taper  gleamed,  lay  poor  Soeur  Marthe, 
with  her  arms  outstretched,  her  body  thus  repre- 
senting a  cross. 

Softly  Angela  climbed  in,  and  then  vainly  imag- 
ining herself  safe  because  Soeur  Marthe  did  not 
lift  her  head  at  the  sounds,  which  must  have  been 
audible,  she  wras  just  about  to  speak  when  a  dark 
shadow  rose  from  the  other  side  of  the  altar  and 
came  toward  the  door,  thus  bringing  Angela  di- 
rectly in  the  pathway  of  the  advancing  nun. 

Instantly  Angela  sank  upon  her  knees,  and  bow- 
ing her  face  upon  her  hands,  she  began  to  sob 
softly  and  to  crawl  forward  toward  the  altar  as  if 
unaware  of  observation. 


MIDNIGHT   IN   THE   CHAPEL          17 

She  could  have  saved  herself  in  no  other  way, 
for  the  nun,  believing  her  to  be  some  sister  per- 
forming penance,  simply  crossed  herself  and  glided 
by  without  a  word,  closing  the  door  behind  her. 

Angela  ceased  sobbing  but  continued  to  crawl 
forward  until  she  could  touch  Soeur  Marthe's 
outstretched  hand.  It  was  as  cold  as  ice. 

Angela  softly  whispered  her  own  name  and 
Soeur  Marthe  stirred. 

"Are  we  alone?"  whispered  Angela  in  French. 

Soeur  Marthe  pressed  her  fingers. 

"  Here  is  my  supper,"  whispered  the  girl,  creep- 
ing nearer.  "  I  saved  it  for  you.  You  are  more 
foolish  than  I  think  if  you  fast  all  night.  What 
have  you  done?" 

The  prostrate  sister  only  shook  her  head  feebly. 

"  Sit  up  a  moment  and  rest,"  whispered  Angela. 
"  Soeur  .Valerie  is  likely  to  wake  at  any  minute 
and  find  me  gone.  Only  she  can't  come  after  me, 
because  I  have  on  her  clothes  and  hid  mine ! " 

A  giggle  broke  from  the  girl  which  seemed  to 
penetrate  the  fanaticism  of  the  prostrate  nun.  She 
stirred  painfully  and  groaned,  and  Angela  reached 
out  and  dragged  her  nearer  until  her  head  rested 
on  the  girl's  shoulder. 

"Eat,"  she  whispered.  "You  look  famished. 
Why  do  you  punish  yourself  in  this  way?  " 

"  I  was  disobedient !  I  was  insubordinate !  I 
am  lost!  Yet  I  could  not  help  it.  If  I  had  it  to 
do  over  again,  I  would  still  do  the  same." 

"  What  have  you  done?  " 

"Soeur  Valerie  heard  our  conversation  Monday 
down  by  the  fence,  and  she  told  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior. I  am  ordered  to  cut  off  your  hair!  I  told 
her  I  would  die  first!  So  I  was  sent  here  to  fast 
and  pray  until  I  consented." 

"Then  consent,"  cried  Angela.     "You  know  / 


18  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

don't  care!  I'll  cut  it  off  myself  to-night,  if  you'll 
only  come  back  and  be  sensible.  I  love  you  far 
better  than  I  love  my  hair,  for  I  hate  that,  and  you 
know  it,  whereas  I  am  lost  without  you,  my  be- 
loved watchdog ! " 

But  Soeur  Marthe  could  not  smile  even  at  this 
fond  name.  She  was  consumed  by  her  anxiety  over 
Angela's  bold  threat. 

"Cut  off  your  beautiful  hair,  my  beloved  one! 
No!  I  will  never  permit  the  sacrifice!  One  day 
you  will  need  that  and  all  your  beauty " 

Again  Angela  broke  into  laughter. 

"  My  beauty ! "  she  cried  in  subdued  tones. 

"  You  are  going  to  be  the  most  beautiful  woman 
in  the  world,"  said  Soeur  Marthe  gravely  and  im- 
pressively. "  And  you  will  need  it  all  to  extricate 
yourself  from  your  terrible  position." 

Soeur  Marthe  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  rocked  her  poor,  thin  body  back  and  forth  in 
silent  agony. 

"Will  you  eat  this,  to  please  me,  beloved?" 
whispered  the  girl,  with  a  face  made  white  by  the 
sister's  words.  "  Then  we  can  talk." 

As  the  half-famished  woman  felt  the  frread 
pressed  against  her  lips  by  Angela's  slim  fingers, 
she  yielded  and  snatched  at  the  coarse  stuff  with 
an  eagerness  which  made  the  girl's  heart  ache. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  mean,"  she  whispered.  "  For- 
get your  vows  and  where  we  are  and  save  me  if 
you  know  what  danger  threatens  me ! " 

The  older  woman  shook  in  Angela's  arms,  as  she 
listened  to  the  passionate  whisper.  She  was  faint 
from  lack  of  food,  chilled  to  the  bone,  stiff  with 
pain  from  lying  on  the  cold  stone  floor,  and  racked 
with  anxious  forebodings  as  to  the  secret  she  car- 
ried in  her  breast.  She  was  also  filled  with  revolt 


MIDNIGHT   IN   THE    CHAPEL          19 

at  the  nature  of  her  penance,  and  she  adored  the 
young  girl  in  whose  warm  embrace  she  was  finding 
strength  and  comfort. 

The  gloom  of  the  little  chapel,  the  ghostly  taper 
flickering  on  the  altar,  the  terrifying  sounds  which 
the  night,  from  time  to  time,  uttered,  all  worked 
upon  her  overwrought  sensibilities,  and  she  began 
to  weep  softly. 

With  infinite  tenderness  the  girl  soothed  her, 
although  her  patience  was  strained  almost  to  the 
breaking  point  by  her  fear  of  pursuit  before  the 
timid  nun  could  find  courage  to  revolt  against  the 
Mother  Superior's  commands.  And  again  she  won- 
dered at  the  power  which  could  transform  a  strong, 
self-poised,  clever  woman  into  a  terrified  automa- 
ton, in  fear  of  something  which  Angela  knew  not. 

"  Hush,"  whispered  Angela,  finally.  "  I  think  I 
hear  some  one  coming." 

They  clung  together  for  a  few  awful  moments  of 
a  terror  which  neither  ever  forgot,  for  they  both 
knew  that  if  they  were  found  there,  they  would 
never  meet  again  on  this  earth,  except  by  a  mir- 
acle, and  Soeur  Marthe's  secret  would  never  be 
uttered. 

The  agony  of  those  dragging  moments  seemed  to 
transform  Soeur  Marthe.  She  sat  up  and  began 
to  speak  with  feverish  eagerness. 

"  Listen,  my  angel,  my  well-named  one !  At  any 
hour  a  man  will  come,  who  every  year  visits  the 
Home  for  news  of  you.  He  pays  for  your  keep, 
and  pays  well.  But  the  payment  is  mostly  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  you  ever  knowing  who  you 
are,  or  whence  you  came ! " 

Angela  seized  her  hands. 

"Do  you  know?"  she  whispered  breathlessly. 

Soeur  Marthe  shook  her  head. 


20  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"No.  I  know  little.  But  I  know  you  are  a 
Protestant.  I  know  that  someone  lives  who  is  in- 
terested in  you.  I  know  that  plenty  of  money  is 
behind  the  secret  of  your  birth.  I  know  that  both 
this  mysterious  visitor  and  the  Holy  Mother  know 
—all!" 

Angela's  body  became  rigid. 

"Why  do  you  pause  before  that  word  'all'? 
You  fear  that  I  am  an  orphan  or — worse  than 
that?  " 

Soeur  Marthe  took  Angela's  face  between  her 
hands. 

"  You  are  a  lion-hearted  child,  so  I  will  tell  you 
what  I  fear.  I  do  not  know  this,  remember,  but  I 
fear  that  some  great  sin  is  connected  with  the  rea- 
son for  your  being  here." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that?  "  asked  Angela,  albeit 
with  stiffened  lips. 

"  Because  this  man  brings  a  great  gift  to  the  con- 
vent every  year.  He  hopes  to  salve  his  conscience 
by  this  means.  Every  year  we  wait  for  his  gift, 
for  after  he  is  gone,  we  have  all  we  need." 

"  Last  year  it  was  the  carved  altar,"  said  Angela 
suddenly. 

Soeur  Marthe  nodded. 

"The  year  before  those  stained-glass  windows. 
The  year  before  that  the  image  of  the  Virgin." 

Angela  looked  around  at  the  magnificence  of  the 
tiny  chapel.  She  had  often  wondered  at  its  rich- 
ness. It  glowed  like  a  great  jewel  amid  the  plain- 
ness of  the  Convent  and  the  Home. 

"  I  am  very  valuable  to  the  Mother  Superior," 
she  said  with  shrewd  understanding.  "  She  will 
not  give  me  up  easily." 

"  She  will  never  give  you  up ! "  cried  Soeur  Mar- 
the. "  If  you  are  to  go,  you  must  escape  before  she 
dreams  that  either  you  or  I  are  mad  enough  to 


MIDNIGHT   IN   THE    CHAPEL          21' 

plan  such  a  thing.  And  if  I  am  to  be  com- 
pelled to  cut  off  your  hair,  you  must  go  at  once! 
I  do  not  know  how  long  I  can  endure  the  pain  of 
this  penance ! " 

Angela's  arms  flew  closer  around  the  trembling 
form  of  Soeur  Marthe.  They  clung  together  mutely 
for  a  moment,  during  which  Angela's  quick  brain 
found  a  solution  of  the  difficulty. 

"  I  cannot  go,  dear  heart,  until  after  this  man 
has  come  and  I  have  overheard  his  conversation. 
Nor  can  you  endure  this  torture.  Therefore  you 
must  be  ill  to-morrow  morning  and  taken  to  the 
infirmary,  where  you  will  stay  until  he  has  come. 
Even  the  infirmary  is  better  than  this ! " 

"  He  will  come  to-morrow,"  said  Soeur  Marthe, 
"  if  he  is  on  time.  One  year  he  was  delayed." 

"  I  will  see  and  hear  him  if  I  am  roasted  alive 
the  moment  after  he  leaves ! "  said  Angela  with 
fierce  decision.  "  Listen !  Does  not  some  one  come 
here  during  the  night?  " 

"Yes,  often." 

"  Very  well,  then.  Promise  me  that  you  will  be 
found  ill  by  the  first  one  who  enters.  And  heaven 
knows  you  are  not  far  from  it  right  now.  Will 
you  promise?  " 

"Yes,  dear!"  whispered  Soeur  Marthe,  submis- 
sively. 

"Listen  again,  for  I  must  fly.  I  will  find  out 
where  you  are.  Leave  your  window  open  and  I 
will  try  to  escape  every  day  and  bring  you  news. 
If  I  don't  come,  there  is  either  nothing  to  tell,  or 
I  am  watched.  If  I  do  come,  I  will  sing  under 
your  window." 

They  kissed  each  other  hastily  and  Angela  fled 
not  one  moment  too  soon,  for  some  one  fumbled  at 
the  door  as  she  dropped  softly  on  the  grass  outside 
the  window. 


22  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

She  lingered  only  long  enough  to  realise  that  the 
hysterical  cries  which  came  from  within  were  not 
feigned,  and  that  Soeur  Marthe  was  indeed  in  a 
pitiable  condition,  before  she  flew  like  an  arrow 
back  to  the  Home. 


CHAPTER   III 
ANGELA  PLANS  TO  OVERHEAR 

Good  fortune  favored  her,  for  everything  was  as 
she  left  it.  Even  the  snores  of  Soeur  Valerie 
seemed  to  have  been  undisturbed. 

So,  hastily  slipping  out  of  the  nun's  garb,  An- 
gela donned  her  uniform,  and  crossing  the  hall 
once  more,  she  entered  the  guest  chamber,  which 
was  directly  over  the  visitors'  room.  Here  she 
knelt  and  lifting  out  the  hot  air  register,  she 
pried  open  a  seam  in  the  great  pipe,  by  means  of 
her  scissors — a  thing  she  had  often  thought  of  do- 
ing, as  she  dusted  the  room  each  day. 

Many  a  time  she  had  heard  the  murmur  of  voices 
in  the  room  below,  but  curiosity  of  matters  which 
did  not  concern  her  had  never  been  one  of  Angela's 
faults,  so  she  had  contented  herself  with  noting 
that  the  seams  of  the  pipe  were  loose,  thus  instinct- 
ively fortifying  herself  against  the  crisis  which 
approached. 

She  got  back  to  bed  in  safety,  but  lay  awake 
half  the  night,  staring  into  the  blackness  of  her 
future  with  an  anxious  pain  in  her  young  heart. 

She  had  two  anxieties.  One,  the  passionate  de- 
termination to  discover  what  the  mysterious  visitor 
would  say  to  the  Mother  Superior  which  might 
throw  light  upon  her  lost  identity.  The  other,  the 
Tild  hope  that  something  might  happen  which 
\vould  divest  Soeur  Marthe  of  her  fear  and  rouse 
her  to  those  best  endeavours  of  a  heart  and  mind 
which  Angela  had  as  yet  caught  only  glimpses,  but 

23 


24  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

which  she  believed  in  with  all  the  fervour  of  her 
young  and  enthusiastic  nature. 

If  this  should  happen,  Angela  felt  that  her  es- 
cape would  be  assured,  and  the  terrible  ache  in 
her  heart,  caused  by  her  aloofness  and  isolation  in 
her  hours  of  suspense,  would  be  somewhat  eased. 

Already  she  knew  that  she  was  of  those  who 
can  suffer  and  enjoy  more  deeply  than  most,  and 
the  knowledge  brought  fear  in  its  wake. 

The  next  day  she  was  absent-minded  and  care- 
less, and  was  sharply  reprimanded  by  Soeur 
Valerie. 

In  order  to  test  the  methods  of  her  new  jailer, 
Angela  was  finally  insubordinate,  and  was,  to  her 
intense  joy,  ordered  to  take  herself  to  her  room. 

To  make  assurance  doubly  sure  and  to  possess 
an  instantaneous  way  of  having  access  to  the  guest 
chamber,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Not  in  the  spare  room,"  she  cried.  "  Don't 
send  me  there !  There  are  ghosts  in  that  room  even 
in  the  daytime,  and  I  am  afraid." 

Soeur  Valerie  smiled. 

"  Then  go  there  at  once,"  she  said.  "  Do  you 
suppose,  silly  child,  that  I  am  trying  to  make  your 
punishment  agreeable  to  you?" 

Soeur  Valerie  was  delighted  at  Angela's  tears 
and  resistance.  The  child  had  the  reputation  of 
being  so  sweet  and  obedient  that  it  pleased  the 
good  woman  to  find  her  impertinent  and  obstinate. 
Some  persons  are  like  that. 

Another  day  passed  and  nothing  happened,  but 
on  the  second,  Angela  detected  a  change  in  Soeur 
Valerie's  manner  which  led  her  to  suspect  that  the 
mysterious  visitor  was  expected  that  day,  and  in 
order  to  prove  that  her  suspicions  were  correct, 
and  that  Soeur  Valerie  was  really  endeavouring 
to  irritate  her  in  order  to  be  able  to  inflict  a  pun- 


ANGELA  PLANS  TO  OVERHEAR   25 

ishment,  Angela  was  unusually  patient  and  meek, 
even  under  additional  tasks. 

She  managed,  however,  to  escape  from  her  du- 
ties long  enough  to  run  over  to  the  infirmary. 

She  sang  as  she  perceived  the  window  nearest 
to  Soeur  Marthe's  bed  was  open,  and  in  instant 
reply,  a  long,  thin  hand  appeared,  with  two  fin- 
gers outstretched. 

"  Two  o'clock ! "  whispered  Angela  to  herself. 

Then,  still  singing  a  song  which  Soeur  Mart-he 
had  composed,  Angela  interpolated  the  message: 
"Perhaps  to-night!  Understandest  thou?" 

And  the  hand  waved  in  reply. 

Just  before  two  o'clock  Angela's  insubordinate 
conduct  was  such  that  Soeur  Valerie,  with  the 
liveliest  satisfaction  in  her  face,  reported  to  the 
Mother  Superior  that  the  girl  must  be  punished. 

Angela  distinctly  saw  an  understanding  look 
pass  between  them.  When  the  Mother  had  gone, 
she  turned  swiftly  to  Soeur  Valerie  and  cried : 

"  I  will  kill  you  if  you  put  me — in  there  with 
them  again!" 

And  from  the  sister's  look  of  joy,  she  knew  that 
she  was  condemned  for  the  entire  afternoon  to  the 
only  spot  in  the  world  where  she  could  overhear 
the  secret  of  her  birth  discussed,  and  learn  whence 
she  came  and  the  power  which  kept  her  there. 


CHAPTER   IV 
WHAT  ANGELA  HEARD  THROUGH  THE  REGISTER 

Up  to  the  moment  when  Angela  lay  flat  on  her 
face,  listening  to  the  voices  of  the  mysterious  man 
and  the  Mother  Superior  in  the  low-ceiled  room 
beneath,  it  had  never  seemed  to  make  any  differ- 
ence to  anyone  whether  the  child  existed  or  not. 

She  was  but  an  anonymous  atom,  floating  on  the 
pool  of  life,  now  touching,  now  separating  from 
other  atomSj  as  purposeless  and  useless  as  herself. 
To  no  one  would  it  cause  an  inquiry  or  a  lifted  eye- 
brow if  she  should  go  under  and  disappear  for- 
ever, and  all  this  Angela  had  felt  acutely,  for  she 
was  sensitive  and  more  clever  than  she  realised. 

But  as  she  listened,  her  breathing  quickened, 
her  cheeks  flushed,  and  in  her  stout  little  heart 
was  born  the  resolution  to  float  to  the  edge  of  the 
pool  and  adhere  to  the  solid  earthwork  of  exist- 
ence which  others  knew  and  formed.  She  would 
no  longer  be  a  nameless  foundling. 

Some  of  the  conversation  she  missed.  Some  she 
could  not  understand.  Nor  could  she  see  the  visi- 
tor's face,  but  she  caught  one  glimpse  of  his  hand 
• — his  left  hand,  on  the  third  finger  of  which  was 
a  curious  gold  ring.  The  ring  was  partly  turned, 
but  she  could  see  that  the  setting  was  of  small, 
brilliant  red  stones,  set  in  the  form  of  a  heart,  and 
on  the  broad  dull  gold  band,  Angela  saw  letters 
which  she  copied  on  a  piece  of  paper,  which  ap- 
peared to  her  thus : 

U03&WAIQ 

M 


WHAT   ANGELA    HEARD  27 

His  voice  too  was  unusual,  and  although  many 
exciting  events  happened  before  Angela  heard  it 
again,  yet  Angela  recognised  that  voice,  and  recog- 
nised it  under  such  peculiar  circumstances  that  it 
was  necessary  for  her  to  see  the  ring  he  wore  be- 
fore she  would  believe  the  wonder  of  his  identity. 

First  the  Mother  Superior  handed  her  visitor  a 
written  report,  evidently  concerning  Angela,  and 
although  it  took  the  man  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to 
read  it,  neither  spoke  until  he  had  read  it  through. 
Then  a  man's  voice  said : 

"Very  good.  But  it's  too  bad  she  is  growing 
handsome.  A  pretty  girl  is  more  difficult  to  con- 
ceal than  a  plain  one." 

"  There  will  be  no  difficulty  about  this  one,"  said 
the  Mother.  "Her  hair  is  the  handsomest  thing 
about  her,  but  it  is  so  heavy  it  makes  her  head 
ache.  It  is  to  be  cut  off  to-morrow,  and  will  not 
be  allowed  to  grow  again.  Health  is  more  impor- 
tant than  beauty." 

"  Does  she  take  kindly  to  the  idea  of  the  con- 
vent? "  asked  the  man. 

"  It  has  not  been  mentioned  to  her  seriously," 
answered  the  Mother.  "  But  when  Soeur  Marthe 
presents  the  case,  she  will  consent.  She  is  wax  in 
Soeur  Marthe's  hands." 

"Equally  tractable  in  others'?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  quite  intractable  and  con- 
stantly being  punished  with  Soeur  Valerie.  Even 
now  she  is  locked  in  her  own  room." 

"  Better  let  Soeur  Marthe  have  her  again  as  soon 
as  possible.  We  want,  above  all  things,  to  have 
everything  done  quietly,  so  that  no  one  need  com- 
ment— no  one,  you  understand !  " 

Angela  gasped  to  hear  so  arrant  a  tone  of  au- 
thority addressed  to  the  Holy  Mother.  But  her 
cheeks  flushed  with  joy  at  the  next  words, 


28  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  Soeur  Marthe  shr.1!  be  restored  to  her  this  very 
night — if  she  is  sufficiently  recovered." 

"Good.  Everything  else  is  safe.  No  change  at 
all  in  the  mother.  The  doctor  is  dead,  and  in  that 
God-forsaken  place  no  one  is  liable  to  come, 

In  the  awful  pause  which  ensued,  Angela  strained 
her  ears,  but  evidently  the  pause  conveyed  its  sin- 
ister meaning,  for  the  Mother  Superior  answered 
quietly : 

"  I  understand !  " 

And  in  those  quiet  words,  Angela  saw  her  un- 
known mother's  speedy  death  prophesied  and  ac- 
cepted. 

"  She  T^ants  for  nothing,"  pursued  the  man  hur- 
riedly, as  though  son: 2  one  had  accused  him,  and 
with  his  right  hand,  he  nervously  twisted  the  ring 
upon  his  finger.  "She  does  not  suffer — physic- 
ally. The  money  is  sent  regularly.  Everything 
is  done  that  can  be  dene,  but  now  that  the  old  doc- 
tor is  dead  who  wa«  called  in  when  it  happened, 
the  last  one  we  need  fear  is  out  of  the  way." 

"  There  is  no  fear,  then,  from — her?  " 

"None!" 

The  word  came  like  a  death  sentence.  Al- 
though Angela  did  not  know  what  it  actually  por- 
tended, it  seem  so  freighted  with  sinister  meaning 
that  she  felt  her  heart  almost  stop  beating. 

"  The  risk  we  run  Is  so  great  that  I  hope  it  is 
worth  all  the  danger,"  said  the  Mother,  with  the 
necessities  of  the  convent  in  mind. 

"  You  shall  have  all  you  need  as  long  as  you 
live !  "  answered  the  man  quickly.  "  That  is  his 
message  to  you.  All  you  need  do  is  to  ask !  " 

"  The  source  of  supply  is  then,  so  great?  "  asked 
the  woman. 

u  Practically  limitless.    Do  not  hesitate,  for  we 


WHAT   ANGELA   HEARD  29 

feel  our  obligation  to  you  in  regard  to  this  child. 
Your  vigilance  we  depend  upon,  for  you  alone, 
know  what  her  appearance  in  our  world  would 
mean." 

"  It  would  only  be  dangerous  if  she  knew  all,  or 
even  suspected,"  said  the  Mother  Superior.  "  Even 
if  she  Should  escape,  knowing  nothing,  what  harm 
could  she  do?  " 

"  Has  she  forgotten  everything? "  asked  the 
man  with  glad  incredulity. 

"  She  has  never  opened  her  lips!  "  said  the 
Mother  Superior,  casting  down  her  eyes.  "  She 
has  been  here  ten  years,  remember,  although  she 
thinks  it  only  seven.  She  believes  herself  to  be 
but  fifteen." 

The  man  nodded  without  speaking,  and  the 
woman's  voice  went  on :  "I  gave  you  my  word 
that  she  should  be  taught  to  forget.  I  have  kept 
my  vow." 

"  I  will  tell  him,"  said  the  man  significantly. 
"  It  will  relieve  his  mind.  Has  she  ever  been 
photographed?  " 

"  Never!  Nor  has  she  ever  seen  her  face  in  a 
mirror.  There  is  not  one  in  the  building!  " 

The  man  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  You  have  indeed  done  your  work  well,"  he 
said. 

He  rose  and  stood  directly  beneath  the  hole 
through  which  Angela  was  looking.  She  saw  the 
back  of  his  head  and  the  thick  wavy  hair.  She 
imagined  him  to  be  handsome. 

She  heard  the  rustle  of  bank  bills  and  the  clink 
of  gold  and  she  saw  the  sign  of  the  cross  made  in 
the  air  over  the  man's  bowed  head. 

Then  they  walked  to  the  door  and  stood  talking 
for  another  ten  minutes  in  tones  too  low  for  An- 
gela to  hear. 


30  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

The  sound  of  the  closing  door  came  to  her  ears 
as  from  a  great  distance,  for  she  was  verging  on 
unconsciousness. 

How  long  she  lay  there,  she  never  knew,  but 
when  she  came  to  herself  it  was  growing  dark. 

Slowly  and  painfully  she  rose  and  flung  herself 
upon  the  spotless  bed,  regardless  of  her  punish- 
ment for  such  effrontery. 

But  when  the  key  turned  in  the  lock,  half  an 
hour  later,  and  Angela  sprang  to  her  feet,  ready 
to  defy  her  jailor,  she  found  herself  clasped  in 
the  arms  of  Soeur  Marthe,  who  led  her  across  the 
hall  and  into  the  safety  of  their  own  room,  before 
Angela's  composure  gave  way  and  she  burst  into 
a  storm  of  nervous,  frightened  tears. 


CHAPTER   V 
ANGELA'S  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  HOME 

No  only  child  was  ever  held  more  closely  in  her 
own  mother's  embrace  than  was  Angela  in  the 
arms  of  the  devoted  nun  of  St.  Ursula's  in  this, 
her  supreme  hour. 

Many  a  time  the  discipline  ordered  by  the 
Mother  Superior  had  been  translated  into  the  most 
loving  ministrations,  nor  was  Angela  any  happier 
in  her  after  life  than  when  she  felt  herself  as  now, 
pressed  close  to  the  bosom  of  the  childless  mother, 
who  loved  the  homeless  waif  under  her  charge  with 
a  mother's  love. 

When  Angela  had  sobbed  out  the  entire  conver- 
sation, Soeur  Marthe  sat  for  some  moments  in 
deepest  thought.  Nor  did  Angela  dare  disturb 
her,  for  there  had  always  been  that  in  Soeur  Mar- 
the's  face  which  led  Angela  to  suspect  that  before 
her  self-immolation  in  the  Convent,  she  had  been 
a  woman  of  brilliant  parts  and  one  who  had  filled 
a  dignified  position  in  the  great  world.  No  one 
could  look  into  her  deep  eyes  and  note  the  shape 
of  her  features  without  seeing  that  her  superior 
brain  was  the  reason  she  had  been  placed  in 
charge  of  so  valuable  a  property  as  Angela  was 
proving  to  be. 

When  she  spoke,  it  was  to  say. 

"  Will  you  draw  on  this  paper  the  design  of 
that  ring,  as  you  saw  it?  " 

Angela's  heart  gave  a  great  throb  of  excitement 
at  the  request,  for  she  knew  now  that  Soeur  Mar- 

31 


ANGELA'S   QUEST 

the's  mind  was  beginning  to  work  out  her  prob- 
lem, just  as  she  had  prayed  might  happen. 

Angela  seized  pencil  and  paper  with  trembling 
hands,  and  when  she  had  drawn  it,  Soeur  Mar- 
the  studied  it  attentively  and  then  again  lost  her- 
self in  profound  meditation,  while  Angela  neither 
stirred  nor  drew  breath. 

Suddenly  Soeur  Marthe  leaned  forward,  drew 
Angela  to  her  knee  and  said: 

"  Your  name  is  Angela  Yorke.  Never  ask  me 
how  I  broke  faith  in  order  to  learn  that.  Your 
mother  lives  near  Georgetown — just  where,  I  do 
not  know.  But  once  you  arrive  at  Georgetown, 
your  own  wits  must  aid  you  to  discover  her.  She 
has  suffered  a  stroke  of  paralysis  and  is  in  charge 
of  two  devoted  negro  servants,  who  can  neither 
read  nor  write,  but  their  fidelity  to  her  may  be 
trusted." 

Soeur  Marthe  paused  and  looked  with  infinite 
sadness  at  the  thin,  eager  face  of  the  girl  who 
knelt  beside  her,  with  her  great  eyes  fastened  on 
the  nun's  slow  moving  lips. 

"  I  shall — miss  you ' 

A  cry  broke  from  the  kneeling  girl. 

"  Miss  me?  Am  I  then,  going — to  leave  this 
place?  And  soon?  " 

"  I  have  done  the  greatest  wrong  I  know  of," 
answered  Soeur  Marthe,  sadly.  "  The  poor  box 
in  the  chapel " 

She  opened  her  black  bag  and  showed  Angela 
a  handful  of  money. 

"  It  is  more  than  enough  for  your  needs.  When 
you  are  able,  send  it  back  to  me.  But  you  must 
go  to-night " 

"  To-night,"  gasped  Angela. 

("  To-morrow  would  be  too  late.  Your  hair " 

/Angela's  hands  flew  to  her  thick  braids. 


ANGELA'S  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  HOME      33 

"  If  that  is  the  only  reason,"  she  said,  "  and 
you  have  stained  your  soul  by  taking — this,  I  will 
stay  until  some  other  way  is  found " 

"  No !  No ! "  cried  Soeur  Marthe  sharply. 
"  There  are  other  dangers!  I  dare  not  keep  you 
here  another  day.  By  morning,  you  must  be  far 
away — you,  my  poor  lamb,  who,  in  all  the  long 
years  have  never  been  outside  of  these  narrow  con- 
fines! Mother  of  God!  What  will  become  of  the 
child?" 

"  If  it  is  true  that  I  have  been  here  ten  years," 
answered  Angela,  seizing  Soeur  Marthe's  hands, 
"  then  I  must  be  eighteen  years  old !  I  am  a  wo- 
man, Soeur  Marthe!  And  I  have  always  believed 
myself  a  child!  " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  but  instead  of  instinct- 
ively looking  for  a  mirror  to  confirm  her  new 
knowledge,  this  child,  who  never  had  seen  her  own 
image,  merely  drew  herself  to  her  full  height  and 
stood,  with  her  shoulders  thrown  back  and  her 
chin  lifted  as  if  she  welcomed  her  heritage  of  new- 
found womanhood. 

"  I  shall  see  my  mother !  I  shall  find  her  and 
take  care  of  her  and  make  her  happy!  I  am  to 
have  a  life  after  all !  I  feel  it !  I  feel  it !  " 

"You  will  find  sorrow,  as  well  as  joy,  my 
child,  and,  alas!  will  experience  both  poignantly," 
said  the  older  woman,  sadly.  "  Be  prepared  to 
bear  it  bravely  and  in  the  open.  Do  not  fly  to  a 
cloister  to  heal  a  wounded  heart — as  I  did." 

"  You  were  once — happy — and  in  a  different 
wray  from  this?"  asked  Angela,  timidly. 

"  I  once  believed  in  love,"  answered  Soeur  Mar- 
the, "  as  you  will.  Pray  heaven  yours  may  be 
more  worthily  bestowed!" 

Angela  flung  her  arms  around  Soeur  Marthe. 

The  spontaneous  tenderness  of  the  girl  was  the 


34  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

sister's  dearest  possession.  Yet  so  careful  had 
these  two  been,  that  up  to  the  time  Soeur  Valerie 
had  spied  upon  them  and  tattled  her  report,  no 
one  had  suspected  that  anything  but  duty  kept 
them  together. 

"  Listen,"  said  Soeur  Marthe.  "  To-night  you 
must  dress  yourself  in  the  clothes  I  will  fetch  you, 
and  over  them  you  will  put  a  nun's  garb.  I  will 
go  with  you  to  the  station,  as  two  sisters  are  al- 
ways seen  together  and  it  will  cause  no  comment, 
when  one  would  instantly  be  remarked  upon. 
When  you  reach  Baltimore  change  your  clothes. 
Take  off  the  nun's  things,  wrap  them  in  a  bundle 
and  dispose  of  them,  for  if  they  are  in  your  pos- 
session and  you  are  searched " 

"  Searched!  "  cried  Angela.     "  By  whom?  " 

"  The  police  will  be  put  on  your  trail  some  time 
to-morrow.  I  will  try  to  keep  your  escape  quiet 
by  pretending  that  you  are  ill.  If  you  could  have 
to-morrow  to  yourself,  you  would  be  safe.  If 
not— -" 

"  I  would  die  sooner  than  be  brought  back  here !  " 
cried  Angela. 

"  If  you  are  caught,  you  will  be  brought  back 
here  and  once  in  the  convent,  you  would  never  es- 
cape !  Remember  you  are  no  common  charge.  You 
are  the  most  valuable  hostage  the  church  has  to- 
day. So  use  well  the  brain  God  has  given  you. 
If  not,  you  are  lost — as  I  shall  be  in  any  case — 
after  this  day's  work !  " 

"  Your  goodness  to  the  waif,  the  foundling,  the 
orphaned  Angela,  has  saved  more  souls  than  all 
your  prayers,"  said  Angela,  with  honest  convic- 
tion. She  knew  her  way  to  the  nun's  heart. 
"  You  know  that — you  feel  it — you  believe  it ! 
And  as  for  me — every  night  of  my  life,  I  will  say 
a  Protestant  prayer  for  you,  for  God  to  bless  my 


ANGELA'S   ESCAPE   FROM   THE   HOME     35 

darling  sister-mother,  the  best  friend  I  ever  had  or 
hope  to  have !  " 

Soeur  Marthe  bent  and  kissed  Angela's  white 
brow,  and  even  in  this  hour  of  supreme  emotion, 
she  noted  the  lovely  way  the  gold-red  hair  grew 
on  her  temples  and  the  bronze  pencilling  of  her 
delicate  eyebrows. 

The  sister  recollected  herself  with  a  start. 

"  One  fact  gives  me  some  new  confidence  in  your 
ability  to  get  through  this  difficult  journey  with- 
out discovery,  and  that  is  that  now  you  know  your 
own  age.  Hitherto,  your  mature  impulses  you 
have  mistrusted  because  you  believed  yourself  to 
be  but  a  fifteen-year-old  girl.  Knowing  yourself 
to  be  a  woman,  you  will  feel  more  courage  and 
you  will  act  upon  your  convictions.  I  am  glad  to 
say  that  I  have  always  found  you  more  reasonable 
than  any  child  I  ever  knew.  Before  this  journey 
is  over,  you  will  doubtless  need  your  quick  wits 
and  those  at  their  best." 

How  these  two  managed  to  put  in  the  next  two 
hours  in  their  usual  duties,  and  to  maintain  a 
natural  manner,  will  always  be  a  mystery,  even 
to  themselves. 

To  Angela,  the  whole  prospect  seemed  so  unreal 
that  her  vision  seemed  impaired  and  she  had  the 
uneasy  sense  that  the  floor  was  rising  up  to  meet 
her  as  she  walked. 

By  nine  o'clock  they  were  again  alone  and  safe 
from  intrusion. 

Soeur  Marthe  had  packed  a  small,  black  bag  of 
her  own  with  all  the  necessities  she  imagined  An- 
gela could  need,  even  including  a  brown  wig  An- 
gela had  worn  in  some  Christmas  tableaux  the 
year  before. 

"  Don't  use  it  until  you  change  your  clothes 
and  don't  forget  to  darken  your  eyebrows.  Your 


36  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

pursuers  will  be  told  to  look  for  a  red-haired  girl, 
for  I  doubt  if  even  our  clever  Mother  Superior 
would  dream  that  you  would  be  shrewd  enough  to 
disguise  yourself." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  protect  yourself  in  case 
you  are  suspected  of  helping  me?  "  asked  Angela, 
anxious  for  the  safety  of  her  friend  even  in  the 
midst  of  her  own  peril. 

"  I  shall  be  here,  remember,  trying  to  throw 
them  off  the  scent.  Never  mind  about  me,  I  shall 
be  safe  no  matter  what  happens." 

"I  am  not  so  sure,"  said  Angela,  shaking  her 
head. 

"  I  have  little  more  to  say,"  said  Soeur  Marthe, 
"  but  this  may  help  you.  I  have  reason  to  sus- 
pect that  your  father  also  is  alive.  If  so,  it  will 
be  your  life  work  to  find  him.  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing  the  names  of  the  people  who  are  back 
of  your  detention  here,  and  who  are  therefore  in 
control  of  his  destiny,  but  this  I  know.  The  man 
who  was  here  to-day  has  Chinese  eyes.  I  have 
seen  him  but  once,  yet  I  can  never  forget  my  feel- 
ings when  I  first  saw  his  eyes  and  knew  that  there 
must  be  some  men  in  the  world  who  are  trusting 
their  business  honour  to  him.  Remember  he  has 
most  unusual  sloe-black,  beady  eyes,  which  give 
him  an  uncanny  aspect.  Find  him.  And  when 
you  have  found  him,  learn  the  secret  of  that  ring 
he  wears.  The  setting  is  in  the  form  of  a  heart 
and  the  inscription  is  evidently  l  COR  CORDIUM ' 
which  is  the  Latin  for  '  heart  of  hearts.'  Some 
woman  must  have  given  him  that  ring.  Possibly, 
if  everything  else  fails  you,  he  can  be  reached 
through  any  woman  who  would  trust  her  life  to 
him." 

Angela  lifted  her  head  like  a  spirited  horse  who 
is  anxious  for  the  race  to  begin. 


ANGELA'S  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  HOME      37 

"  You  give  me  courage  to  search  the  world 
over,"  she  cried,  "  if  you  even  suspect  that  both  of 
my  dear  parents  are  alive,  and  that  by  finding 
them  I  can  hold  my  head  up  with  the  rest  of  the 
world." 

Soeur  Marthe  took  the  girl  by  her  shoulders  and 
looked  deeply  into  her  eyes. 

"  Alas,  that  the  hour  of  parting  is  so  near  and 
that  I  can  never  help  you  again!  "  she  said  with 
infinite  sadness  in  her  tone.  "  For  you  must 
never  write  to  me  nor  expect  to  hear  from  me. 
From  this  day  on,  you  are  dead  to  me  and  I  to 
you !  " 

"  From  this  day  on,  you  are  very  much  alive  to 
me !  "  cried  Angela.  "  And  I  will  communicate 
with  you  through  the  Mother  Superior  herself. 
She  shall  give  you  news  of  me!  " 

For  reply,  Soeur  Marthe  pressed  Angela  to  her 
heart  and  kissed  her  on  her  shining  hair. 

Angela  drew  away. 

"  Listen !  "  she  said.  "  After  I  am  gone  and 
you  come  back,  break  a  larger  hole  in  the  hedge 
where  it  joins  the  brick  wall.  This  is  where  I 
meant  to  escape  and  it  will  serve  to  throw  them 
off  the  track.  Only  be  careful  of  your  own  hands. 
There  are  thorns!  " 

"  You  are  beginning  to  think,"  said  Soeur  Mar- 
the proudly.  "  I  believe  you  will  succeed  in  all 
your  fondest  hopes.  I  feel  it  in  my  heart." 

"  Then  you  think  it  a  wise  suggestion?  "  asked 
Angela. 

"  So  wise  that  I  shall  act  upon  it,  wearing  your 
shoes,  and  carefully  leaving  a  bit  of  your  blue  uni- 
form on  the  briars.  That  road  leads  to  the  village 
where  Soeur  Valerie  does  her  purchasing,  so  she 
will  lead  the  hunters  there!  " 

Angela  smiled.    Soeur  Marthe's  face  was  grave, 


38  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

which  was  characteristic  of  the  two.  Angela 
could  laugh,  no  matter  what  danger  threatened, 
while  Soeur  Marthe  habitually  took  the  graver 
view  and  met  anxiety  afar  off,  going  forth  to  wel- 
come it  and  wearing  it  as  a  friend. 

Their  common  anxiety  sharpened  the  intelli- 
gence of  both,  so  that  many  precautions  were 
taken  which  even  surprised  themselves  as  the 
thoughts  developed. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  upon  two  thoroughly 
frightened  women  that  the  young  moon  looked 
down,  as,  two  hours  later,  they  hurriedly  made 
their  way  down  a  road,  which  for  blackness  and 
unknown  obstructions  and  ghostly  shadows, 
seemed,  to  their  exerted  imaginations,  to  have  no 
equal. 

They  reached  the  station  in  good  time.  For- 
tunately the  station  agent  was  accustomed  to  see 
the  sisters  hide  their  faces,  else  the  curious  action 
of  these  two  would  surely  have  awakened  his  sus- 
picions. 

As  it  was,  he  paid  no  attention  to  them,  except 
to  wonder  why  they  bought  two  tickets  going  in 
opposite  directions.  He  asked  them  if  they  knew 
which  train  came  in  first,  and  his  question  put 
them  in  such  a  flutter  that  he  contented  himself 
with  saying: 

"  The  Baltimore  train  comes  in  first.  Don't 
forget." 

Then  he.  took  his  lantern  and  went  to  see  about 
the  luggage  and  not  until  the  next  day  did  he  hear 
anything  of  Angela's  escape,  and  even  then  he 
could  not  say  in  which  direction  she  had  gone. 

Yet  somewhere  into  the  blackness  of  the  night 
the  young  girl  had  vanished,  and  the  whole  com- 
munity was  set  astir  because  of  her  going. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  ARBUTHNOTS 

Breakfast,  which  is  an  abominable  meal  in  most 
houses,  was  made  into  a  thing  of  delight  at  the 
Arbuthnots,  owing  chiefly  to  the  Arbuthnots  them- 
selves. 

To  be  sure,  with  everything  that  money  can  buy, 
one  would  think  that  happiness,  even  at  breakfast, 
might  be  acquired.  Yet  with  most,  of  whom  one 
can  say  that  they  have  everything  that  money  can 
buy,  one  is  forced  to  add  that,  on  account  of  the 
varied  and  abundant  style  of  their  afflictions, — 
scandals,  diseases  and  whatnot, — one  would  prefer 
to  rub  along  on  one's  present  income  and  lack  of 
misfortune. 

But  to  this  arrangement,  the  Arbuthnots  were 
a  cheerful  exception.  They  seemed  to  be  exempt 
from  trouble.  They  were  cultured,  agreeable,  sin- 
cere, simple-minded  and  full  of  humour.  In  fact, 
they  compelled  their  money  to  furnish  their  amuse- 
ment— amusing  amusement — not  the  life  sentence 
at  hard  labour,  which,  with  most  of  the  rich,  goes 
by  the  name  of  amusement.  They  had  no  poses 
and  no  fads.  They  did  not  wish  to  be  considered 
more  intelligent  nor  more  philanthropic  nor 
richer  than  they  were. 

Although  most  of  their  money  had  been  made 
by  Squires  Arbuthnot  himself,  both  he  and  his 
wife  had  inherited  enough  so  that  they  were  not 
newly  rich,  either  by  nature  or  by  accident. 

Both  had  family  traditions,  family  history,  heir- 
looms and  other  badges  of  respectability,  which 

39 


40  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

made  college  educations  for  their  children  an  or- 
dinary necessity  and  not  a  means  to  an  end. 

If  one  were  obliged  to  describe  them  as  a  family 
in  two  words,  one  would  call  them  perfectly  nat- 
ural. That  is  to  say,  their  naturalness  was  of  a 
human  brand,  and  so  akin  to  the  kind  that -every- 
body, except  the  artificial,  likes,  that  it  was  warm- 
ing to  the  very  cockles  of  the  heart  to  know  and 
count  the  Arbuthnots  as  friends. 

The  family  consisted  of  but  four  members, 
Squires  Arbuthnot,  the  multi-millionaire  president 
of  the  Inter  Ocean  Harvester  Co.,  his  wife,  Eliza- 
beth, whom  everybody,  even  her  own  daughter, 
called  Bettie;  Ayres,  the  son,  twenty-one,  sup- 
posed to  be  acquiring  an  education  at  Harvard, 
and  Midget,  the  seventeen-year-old  daughter, 
whose  smallness  was  united  with  that  exquisite 
delicacy,  which  should  have  gone  with  a  spiritual 
sense  like  a  white  flame,  if  the  Dresden  china  type 
of  human  being  have  spiritual  sense  of  any  colour 
to  boast  of. 

But  the  fact  of  the  matter  was  that  Midget  Ar- 
buthnot was  a  pyxie — a  born  mischief,  and  de- 
served to  have  her  ears  boxed  for  something  or 
other,  almost  every  hour  of  the  day. 

But  no  body  ever  boxed  them,  or  even  seemed  to 
wish  to,  partly  because  they  were  very  perfect, 
very  attractive  little  pink  ears,  and  partly  because 
Midget  was  altogether  a  delight  to  have  about. 

The  Arbuthnots  were  frankly  fond  of  each  other. 
The  children  thought  there  were  never  two  such 
handsome  and  attractive,  parents  in  the  world, 
whereas  the  father  and  mother  were  equally  con- 
vinced that  a  finer  specimen  of  a  young  man  than 
Ayres,  with  his  tall  figure,  his  big  grey  eyes,  black 
hair,  and  brilliant  blue-white  teeth,  never  existed, 
while  Midget  was  a  joy  to  behold  and  to  hear. 


THE    ARBUTHNOTS  41 

Money  had  come  to  them  easily,  therefore  Mr. 
Arbuthnot  had  not  wasted  his  youth  and  strength 
to  acquire  it.  He  was  in  robust  health,  and  en- 
joyed to  the  full  each  day  as  it  came  to  him.  He 
was  courteous,  kindly,  chivalrous  and  tolerant. 

He  adored  his  wife,  and  she  was  one  of  the  few 
women  who  graciously  gave  her  whole  self  to  each 
demand  as  it  was  made  upon  her. 

Did  you  want  a  career?  Interest,  if  you  could, 
Bettie  Arbuthnot,  and  the  way  was  made  easy  for 
you. 

Did  you  have  a  quarrel  with  your  beloved? 
Bettie  Arbuthnot  smoothed  things  out  for  you, 
and  found  joy  in  so  doing.  Nor  were  you  ever  made 
to  feel  a  sense  of  obligation  to  her  afterwards.  She 
walked  along,  garlanding  the  lives  of  others  with 
the  roses  which  bloomed  more  abundantly  for  her 
than  her  needs  required  and  she  forgot  her  benefits 
to  one,  in  her  willingness  to  serve  another. 

Thus,  what  might  have  been  received  as,  and  de- 
veloped into  calamities,  the  Arbuthnots  refused  to 
ticket  as  such.  If  there  was  any  possible  way  to 
do  it,  they  laughed  at  what  would  spell  trouble  or 
disappointment  to  another. 

They  put  fear  under  their  feet  and  made  the 
shadows  but  a  grateful  shade  from  too  persistent 
a  sunshine. 

With  some,  this  would  have  been  an  impossible 
task, — just  as  one  cannot  make  a  ballgown  out  of 
burlap.  But  the  Arbuthnots  were  constructed  out 
of  material  so  fine  that  one  could  take  a  few  lib- 
erties with  it,  without  incurring  the  risk  of  ruin, 
either  to  the  mind  or  to  the  body. 

Thus,  to  return  to  our  mutton  chops,  breakfast 
was  a  thoroughly  cheerful  meal. 

The  dining-room  was  round  and  opened  into  a 
sunken  conservatory,  which  showed  vistas  of 


42  ANGELA'S  QUEST 

blooming  plants,  no  matter  what  the  season.  Sun 
and  air,  cheerful  colours,  shining  silver,  fruits  and 
flowers  were  there  in  abundance,  but  the  chief 
thing  were  the  spirits  of  the  breakfasters. 

Bettie  and  Midget  always  dressed  for  breakfast 
as  for  no  other  function  of  the  day.  There  were 
no  elaborate  coiffures,  no  street  gowns.  Mother 
and  daughter  oftenest  wore  their  hair  in  braids 
down  their  backs.  And  the  Paris  dressmakers  sent 
more  breakfast  ne'glige'es,  if  those  bewitching  con- 
fections could  go  by  so  absurd  a  name,  than  they 
did  ballgowns. 

Midget  always  had  flowers  of  her  own  choosing 
at  the  plates  of  each,  and  many  a  time  did  she  eat 
her  breakfast,  sitting  on  the  arm  of  her  father's 
chair,  sometimes  borrowing  from  his  plate,  while 
Bettie  read  her  letters  aloud,  and  asked  advice 
from  everybody,  which  she  never  followed. 

It  was  upon  such  a  breakfast  as  this,  and  Midge 
was  even  dipping  into  her  father's  egg,  when  the 
door  suddenly  opened  and  Ayres  entered. 

From  his  very  expression,  they  all  knew  that 
something  had  happened. 

But  when  things  happened  to  the  Arbuthnots, 
they  took  them  as  cheerfully  as  possible. 

Thus,  when  Ayres  had  kissed  them  all,  even  his 
father,  when  the  butler  was  not  looking,  and,  in 
answer  to  their  inquiring  glances,  he  said : 

"  I'm  expelled!  "  no  one  said  anything,  although 
it  was  one  of  the  severest  blows  the  boy  could  have 
dealt  his  father,  who  had  been  the  fifth  Arbuth- 
not  in  a  direct  line  to  graduate  from  that  uni- 
versity. 

A  complete  silence  was  so  unusual  in  this  fam- 
ily, that  Ayres  was  more  startled  by  the  reception 
his  news  got  than  he  liked. 

He  looked  around  at  them  anxiously. 


THE    ARBUTHNOTS  43 

"What  have  you  done?"  asked  his  father.  "I 
hope  you  haven't " 

Then  he  paused,  took  off  his  glasses  and  held 
his  hand  out  to  his  son. 

"  There !  Forgive  me !  "  he  said.  "  I  was  going 
to  insult  you  by  saying  I  hoped  you  hadn't  done 
anything  to  deserve  it,  by  which  I  would  have 
meant  anything  cowardly,  criminal  or  unbecoming 
a  gentleman.  I  apologise  by  my  unspoken  thought. 
I  know  you  have  done  nothing  of  the  sort.  Tell 
us  about  it!" 

Ayres  sprang  up  and  leaned  over  his  father  with 
his  arm  around  the  elder  man's  shoulders. 

"  Thank  you,  Governor !  "  he  said. 

Midge  leaned  her  impudent  little  face  directly 
under  her  father's. 

"  Daddy,"  she  said,  "  if  you  were  any  finer  than 
you  are,  you  wouldn't  be  with  us  long.  Don't  grow 
any  better !  I  would  really  fear  for  you !  " 

Ayres  laughed  but  his  eyes  held  his  father's 
glance  with  a  look  of  perfect  understanding,  as 
he  went  back  to  his  chair. 

"  I  just "  he  began,  but  his  mother  inter- 
rupted him. 

"Stop  a  moment,  son,  until  I  order.  Hum- 
phreys, some  rice  batter  cakes  and  fresh  coffee  for 
Mr.  Ayres  and  tell  Hilda  to  have  squabs  en  cas- 
serole for  luncheon.  Now  go  on,  Ayres,  you  were 
saying " 

"I  was  saying  that  you  are  an  angel  to  think 
of  Hilda's  squabs  for  me,  mother  Bettie,"  said  the 
boy. 

Bettie  smiled.  She  liked  praise  from  her  family 
for  her  efforts  to  please  them  and  she  had  taught 
her  children  the  rare  habit  of  expressing  their 
gratitude. 

That  alone  would  have  made  them  remarkable. 


£4  'ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  Go  on,  Ayres  !  "  cried  Midge.  "  What  did  you 
do  to  be  expelled?  I  don't  exactly  take  Daddy's 
holy  view  of  your  character.  I  hope  they  didn't 
catch  you  skinning  your  aged  grandmother 


"All  we  did,"  said  Ayres,  interrupting  her, 
"was  for  four  of  nf:  to  give  a  party.  It  was  a 
musicale.  And  they  didn't  like  it." 

"Didn't  like  a  m:-.~icale?"  asked  his  mother. 

«  No." 

"What  did  you  do  at  your  musicale?"  asked 
Midge  suspiciously. 

"Up  to  a  certain  point  it  was  conducted  irre- 
proachably. About  as  other  musicales  !  " 

"And  afterwards?"  demanded  Midge.  "Did 
you  get  drunk?" 

"  Midge  !  "  said  her  mother. 

"  Well,  I've  heard  of  such  phenomena,"  said 
Midge. 

"  We  did  not!  "  said  her  brother. 

"Well,  after  the  certain  point  was  reached," 
said  his  father,  "what  happened  then?" 

"  Sir,  I  perceive  that  you  should  have  been  a 
lawyer,"  said  the  young  man.  "  You  touch  the 
crux  of  the  whole  matter.  When  a  certain  point 
was  reached,  a  lumberman's  saw  was  produced, 
and  Colchester  and  I  sawed  the  piano  in  two  and 
threw  it  out  of  the  7,'indow." 

"Your  Steinway  srand?"  asked  Midge,  in  hor- 
ror. 

"  No.  A  fine,  old  square  relic  of  former  gran- 
deur purchased  for  the  occasion.  It  cost  seventy- 
five  dollars.  But  it  was  worth  it.  Every  time 
the  saw  struck  a  string,  it  brought  out  a  new 
tone." 

"Did  it  make  a  horrible  racket?"  asked  Midge, 
with  her  napkin  at  h°r  face. 


THE    ARBUTENOTS  45 

"  The  finest  I  ever  heard.  There  was  a  meeting 
of  the  Faculty  in  the  Dean's  rooms  half  a  block 
away.  We  had  the  musicale  in  my  rooms  on  the 
third  floor,  in  anticipation  of  the  happy  event, 
never  dreaming  that  the  Faculty  would  find  an- 
noyance in  our  simple  pleasures.  But  as  sections 
of  the  piano  began  to  fall  on  the  stone  pavement, 
they  grew  peevish  and  tried  to  suppress  our  inno- 
cent fun.  We  didn't  hear  them  knocking  at  first. 
They  got  in  just  as  we  heaved  the  bass  section 
out." 

"What  did  they  say?"  asked  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  his 
face  crimson  with  laughter. 

"They  asked  for  a  conference  with  us  the  next 
day,  and  when  we  met  for  tb^  purpose  of  discuss- 
ing the  evening's  entertainment,  they  seemed  un- 
duly impressed  with  the  fact  that  some  of  the 
black  keys  had  been  picked  up  two  blocks 
away ! " 

"As  we  have  frequently  observed,"  said  Midge, 
"it  all  depends  upon  the  p-unt  of  view.  I  sup- 
pose to  have  had  those  keys  not  cross  the  street 
would  greatly  have  mitigated  the  offence!"' 

Bettie  leaned  back  in  her  chair  helpless  with 
laughter. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  up  such  things, 
Ayres!  I  ivish  I  had  been  there!" 

Midge  turned  on  her  a  face  full  of  reproof. 

"Fie!  Fie!  Bettie!"  cha  said.  "What  you 
don't  know  about  the  behavior  of  a  properly  - 
brought-up  mother,  would  fill  a  book.  Don't  you 
know  that  the  recognised  -vtitude  of  the  usual 
mother  under  similar  circumstances  would  be  one 
of  austere  reproof,  accompanied  by  a  deluge  of 
reproachful  tears,  punctured  by  such  exclamations 
as  'Oh,  meh  boy!  How  could  you  disappoint  us 
so?  Don't  you  know  our  fondest  hopes  of  seeing 


46  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

you  graduate  at  the  head  of  your  class,  even  as 
your  dear  father  graced  the  foot  of  his,  have  been 
wrecked  by  your  mad  prank?  Oh,  the  cruel 
thoughtlessness  of  youth!  Boo!  hoo!  And  again 
I  say  Boo !  hoo ! '  That  would  be  what  most 
mothers  would  say,  Bettie.  But  you,  you  disgrace- 
fully young  and  irresponsible  thing!  You  burst 
out  laughing  at  him  and  say  you  wish  you  had 
been  there.  What  a  way  to  bring  up  a  son !  No 
wonder  we  children  are  as  we  are !  " 

"  You  couldn't  be  better  in  my  opinion,"  said 
Bettie,  briskly.  "  I  am  dreadfully  criticised,  I 
know,  for  the  way  I've  brought  you  up,  but  as  for 
myself,  I've  loved  doing  it,  and  I've  loved  myself 
for  doing  it.  So  there  you  are ! " 

"  Complacent  angel !  "  said  Midge.  "  And  we 
love  it  too.  But  really,  it  is  awful  to  be  expelled, 
and  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  of  it,  Ayres 
Arbuthnot!  Aren't  you  going  to  say  anything  to 
him,  either,  Daddykins?  " 

"  Do,  father !  Do  jaw  me  a  little,"  said  Ayres. 
"  If  you  don't,  Midge  will  be  so  disappointed." 

But  even  as  he  spoke  the  son  looked  somewhat 
anxiously  at  his  father,  for  this  was  not  only  the 
most  serious  thing  which  had  ever  happened  to 
them,  as  a  family,  but  the  boy  could  see  that  his 
father  was  more  deeply  stirred  by  it  than  he  cared 
to  admit  or  was  willing  to  show. 

A  short  silence  ensued,  which  even  Midge  knew 
better  than  to  break.  She  still  sat  with  her  arm 
around  her  father's  neck. 

"I've  just  been  thinking,  children,"  he  said  at 
last,  and  more  slowly  than  usual,  "you  have  al- 
ways known  that  I  do  not  believe  that  things  just 
happen,  in  a  purposeless,  hit-or-miss  fashion.  You 
two  children  have  always  lived  an  easy,  care- 
free life  which  it  has  been  your  mother's  and  my 


THE    ARBUTHNOTS  47 

earnest  wish  to  give  you.  Your  happiness  has  been 
our  reward,  and  your  good  behaviour  has  rendered 
that  reward  munificent.  Now,  here  comes  an  ap- 
parent check  to  our  plan.  The  first  little  rough- 
ness in  our  smooth  riding  has  been  encountered. 
It  did  not  happen  accidentally.  It  has  an  educa- 
tional significance.  I  leave  it  to  you,  my  son,  to 
discover  its  problematic  meaning." 

If  a  battery  of  field  guns  had  suddenly  began 
to  play  upon  the  three  who  listened,  greater  con- 
sternation could  not  have  been  written  upon  their 
faces  than  by  this  gently  delivered  homily,  because 
it  was  the  first  time  Squires  Arbuthnot  had  ever 
spoken  so  seriously  or  with  such  firmness.  His  was 
a  gentle,  even  tolerant  nature,  but  it  was  bedded 
on  rock.  His  family  had  never  had  cause  to  dis- 
cover it,  and  the  first  they  knew  of  the  severity  of 
the  shock  Ayres's  expulsion  was  to  his  father,  was 
in  the  new  tone,  albeit  a  most  kindly  one,  which 
crept  into  his  voice  as  he  spoke. 

Midge  withdrew  her  arm  from  his  neck  and 
peered  down  into  his  face,  but  without  her  cus- 
tomary impudence.  She  was  simply  curious  to 
understand  the  change. 

Bettie  jumped  up,  scattering  her  letters  on  the 
floor  and  ran  around  the  table  to  his  side.  She 
put  both  arms  around  his  neck  and  laid  her  cheek 
tenderly  against  his. 

Ayres  dropped  his  head  on  his  chest  and  drew 
aimless  pictures  on  the  tablecloth. 

Humphreys,  the  butler,  entered  with  a  covered 
silver  dish.  He  proffered  the  contents  to  his  young 
master  and  shot  an  astonished  and  reproachful 
glance  at  the  older  couple,  when  Ayres  simply 
shook  his  head,  refusing  to  eat. 

On  the  way  back  to  her  chair,  Bettie  Arbuthnot 
laid  her  hand  on  her  tall  son's  shoulder. 


48  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

"  Ayres,  darling,"  she  said,  "  I  know  what  your 
father  means.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  meant 
for  something  greater  than  just  to  be  a  rich  man's 
son.  If  you  feel,  in  your  secret  heart,  that  you 
are,  just  remember  that  this  must  be  your  chance. 
It  would  please  me  tremendously  to  see  you  strike 
out!" 

At  this,  Midget's  impudence  could  no  longer  be 
controlled.  She  rolled  up  her  eyes,  piously  crossed 
herself  and  fanned  herself  with  an  invisible  fan. 
Her  manner  and  her  minute  size  made  her  irre- 
sistibly funny. 

Bettie  burst  out  laughing  and  boxed  her  ears 
as  she  ran  back  to  her  chair. 

Suddenly  Midge  stooped  down  and  looked  under 
the  table.  Her  father  eyed  her  smilingly  over  his 
glasses. 

"What  are  you  looking  for,  daughter?"  he  said. 

"  I  was  looking  for  my  maltese  kitten.  Shouldn't 
wonder  if  she,  too,  felt  like  adding  a  few  words  of 
wisdom  to  this  symposium ! " 

"  You  impertinent  monkey,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot, 
rising.  "  Come,  Ayres !  Don't  look  so  serious  I 
This  will  not  have  been  a  bad  day's  work  if  it 
causes  you  to  come  out  from  the  herd  and  find 
yourself.  Ah,  Bettie,  love!  We  may  say  that  we 
want  our  children  to  do  just  and  noble  things,  yet 
at  the  first  shadow  of  seriousness  which  clouds 
their  brows,  we  hark  back  regretfully  to  the  days 
when  they  found  life  nothing  but  something  to 
laugh  at  and  make  fun  of.  We  are  all  made  up 
of  contradictions." 

"  That's  one  thing,  then,  that  makes  you  so  ador- 
able," cried  Midge,  jumping  on  the  seat  of  her 
chair  and  flinging  herself  into  her  father's  arms 
with  such  violence  that  she  almost  upset  him. 

"  Steady,  boy ! "  she  said,  as  he  regained  hia 
balance. 


THE    ARBUTHNOTS  49 

He  patted  her,  kissed  her  and,  taking  her  by  the 
elbows,  he  stood  her  on  the  floor  again. 

"  Want  any  money,  Ay  res?  "  he  asked. 

Ayres  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  thank  you,  sir.    I  have  enough." 

"  Enough ! "  shouted  Midge  in  a  smothered 
voice.  "What  a  lie!  Whoever  heard  of  having 
enough  money!  I'll  take  some,  Daddy,  just  to 
oblige  you ! " 

Mr.  Arbuthnot  handed  her  his  entire  roll  of 
bills,  and  Midge,  with  a  deftness  born  of  long  prac- 
tice, abstracted  two  of  one  hundred  dollars  each, 
with  an  invisible  nod  in  the  direction  of  her 
brother,  to  which  her  father  replied  in  like  fashion. 
Then  he  bent  and  kissed  his  wife,  patted  his  son 
on  the  shoulder  and  left  the  room,  with  Midge 
driving  him  by  his  coat  tails. 

For  a  moment  Ayres  sat  staring  with  unseeing 
eyes  at  the  flowers  in  the  middle  of  the  table. 
Bettie  watched  him  carefully,  while  pretending  to 
be  engrossed  with  her  letters. 

Suddenly  he  raised  his  head,  threw  back  his 
shoulders  and  said : 

"  Motherkins,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  think  I'll  go 
to  Bermuda  for  a  few  weeks.  I  believe  a  change 
would  do  me  good." 

"  Go,  by  all  means,  my  darling.  I  am  sure  Ber- 
muda is  just  what  you  need.  I'll  attend  to  your 
packing  to-day.  You'll  need  a  lot  of  new  things. 
Order  them  and  I'll  do  the  rest." 

"  I  shan't  order  a  thing,"  he  said.  "  I'm  going  to 
do  something  that  only  needs  old  clothes.  Pack 
the  oldest  things  you  can  find  and  just  add  a  suit 
of  evening  clothes,  in  case  of  fire." 

"All  right,  dearie.  I'll  do  just  as  you  say. 
When  shall  you  go?  " 

"I'll  send  for  my  trunk  this  afternoon.     The 


50  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

steamer  sails  to-morrow,  but  I'll  go  aboard  to- 
night." 

"That  will  be  lovely,"  said  Bettie.  "I'll  do 
everything  for  you.  You  can  send  any  time  after 
three  o'clock.  Bermuda  will  be  the  best  thing  in 
the  world  for  you." 

Ayres  laughed  as  he  kissed  her  good-bye. 

She  would  have  said  the  same  if  he  had  an- 
nounced that  he  was  going  to  Madagascar. 


'CHAPTER  vn 

ANGELA  IN  DISGUISE 

Although  it  was  past  midnight  when  Angela 
boarded,  the  train,  it  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ning  when  she  reached  Baltimore. 

She  had  sat,  bolt  upright  all  those  hours,  in  a 
stuffy  day  coach  which  reeked  of  bananas,  and  all 
the  rest  of  her  life,  the  odour  of  bananas  recalled 
to  her  mind  the  groups  of  Italians,  who  fed  on 
that  fruit  through  that  seemingly  interminable 
night. 

It  was  her  first  recollection  of  a  railway  jour- 
ney, yet  she  failed  to  make  herself  conspicuous, 
partly  because  she  feared  to  move  and  scarcely 
dared  breathe,  and  partly  because  she  made  use 
of  the  questions  and  answers  made  by  her  fellow 
passengers. 

When  the  train  arrived  in  Baltimore,  there  was 
no  pale-faced  nun  with  red-gold  hair. 

But  in  another  car,  sat  a  plain,  brown-haired 
young  woman,  dressed  in  an  ill-fitting  dark  blue 
serge,  to  whom  no  one  paid  any  attention. 

As  Angela  stepped  from  the  train,  it  was  all  she 
could  do  to  keep  from  taking  to  her  heels  and 
dashing  through  the  crowd  in  order  to  get  away 
from  people,  yet  in  spite  of  her  loudly  beating 
heart,  she  forced  herself  to  walk  slowly.  She  even 
pretended  to  be  looking  for  someone,  this  idea  hav- 
ing occurred  to  her  as  the  only  way  in  which  she 
could  avoid  looking  as  lost  as  she  felt. 

Her  common  sense  told  her  that  she  was  in  lit- 
tle danger  as  yet.  Her  flight  could  not  possibly 

51 


52  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

be  discovered  before  morning,  when  some  time 
would  be  spent  in  search,  before  it  would  occur  to 
them  that  she  had  escaped. 

Her  danger  lay  in  the  time  necessarily  spent  in 
Baltimore  before  the  express  left  for  Washington, 
in  every  stop  that  train  made  on  the  way,  but  most 
of  all,  in  her  arrival  in  Washington  itself. 

She  had  obeyed  Soeur  Marthe  in  getting  rid  of 
her  nun's  garb  before  she  reached  Baltimore,  and 
although  she  was  sick  with  fright,  she  managed 
to  conceal  her  feelings  and  board  her  train  in 
safety. 

Soeur  Marthe  had  given  her  no  instructions,  yet 
Angela  saw,  as  she  walked  down  the  long  platform 
that  those  passengers  who  looked  more  well-to-do 
went  into  the  chair  cars. 

It  may  have  been  instinct — the  instinct  of  being 
well  born — which  guided  her,  but  in  a  flash,  she 
realised  that  if  anything  should  really  happen  to 
her  on  this  train,  she  would  be  safer  with  persons 
of  means  and  position  than  with  Italian  immi- 
grants in  a  banana-scented  day  coach. 

Therefore,  she  spoke  to  the  porter  who  was  car- 
rying her  bag. 

"  How  much  does  it  cost  to  go  in  this  car?  " 

And  when  he  told  her,  she  said : 

"  Then  I'll  ride  in  it.  Please  show  me  in 
there." 

This  appeal  to  his  guidance  pleased  the  man, 
who,  like  all  of  his  race,  love  authority. 

He  bustled  forward  and  bidding  Angela  to 
hurry,  he  pushed  his  way  in  and  secured  her  a 
chair  by  the  very  simpl  means  of  getting  to  it 
before  the  regular  porter  of  the  car  could  assign 
it  to  a  round-faced,  stout  and  hearty  young  man, 
who  wore  the  garb  of  clergyman  and  had  the  man- 
ner of  a  jockey.  This  young  gentleman  accepted 


ANGELA    IN    DISGUISE  53 

his  defeat  with  a  beaming  countenance,  and,  after 
one  look  into  Angela's  face,  he  calmly  deposited 
in  the  aisle,  the  bag  which  was  evidently  holding 
the  chair  next  hers  for  its  owner,  and  popped 
himself  into  it  with  the  casual  remark  to  the  por- 
ter, accompanied  with  the  click  of  coin. 

"  This  is  my  chair,  isn't  it?  " 

Angela  tried  not  to  smile,  but  the  young  man's 
grin  was  so  contagious  that  she  had  to  bite  her 
lip  and  turn  her  head  away. 

The  train  started,  and  presently  a  violent  alter- 
cation arose  between  the  real  owner  of  the  chair 
and  the  car  porter,  who  maintained  that  the  most 
annoying  mistakes  happened  when  passengers 
waited  to  secure  chairs  after  reaching  the  train. 
Yet  in  spite  of  being  almost  bodily  lifted  from  the 
disputed  chair  by  its  irate  rightful  owner,  the 
round-faced  clerical  young  man  calmly  read  a 
copy  of  Life  and  only  desisted  long  enough  to  be- 
stow a  look  full  of  secret  comradeship  on  Angela 
as  much  as  to  say : 

"  You  stole  my  chair  and  I  stole  his.  Which 
makes  us  partners.  See?  " 

And  Angela  plainly  saw,  though  she  dared  not 
admit  it  nor  seem  to  understand  his  message. 

The  train  flew  on  and  at  each  stop  Angela's 
face  grew  paler  and  paler  and  her  anxiety  became 
more  apparent. 

The  round-faced  young  man  observed  her  un- 
easiness and  being  an  astute  person,  with  a 
trained  newspaper  instinct,  he  cast  about  in  his 
mind  for  a  reason. 

Presently  he  observed  a  rather  common  looking 
man,  with  shrewd  eyes  and  a  searching  glance, 
stroll  slowly  through  the  car,  bestowing  keen 
scrutiny  on  each  of  the  passengers,  especially  the 
women. 


54  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

The  young  clergyman  saw  with  relief  that  An- 
gela happened  to  be  looking  out  of  the  win- 
dow. 

Swiftly  he  leaned  toward  her  and  said: 

"Excuse  me  for  butting  in,  but  if  you  happen 
to  be  wearing  that  wig  as  a  disguise,  you'd  better 
pull  it  down  further  as  there  is  a  Pinkerton  detec- 
tive on  this  car  and " 

He  stopped,  appalled  by  the  greyness  which 
overspread  the  girl's  face. 

"Don't  faint!  Pinch  yourself!  Stick  pins  into 
yourself !  "  he  implored.  "  If  you  need  help,  I'm 
here,  you  know." 

Twice  Angela  essayed  to  speak,  but  her  stiff  lips 
refused  to  move.  Finally  she  managed  it. 

"  I  am  an  escaped  nun ! "  she  whispered.  "  He 
is  here  to  take  me  back !  " 

The  young  man  seemed  galvanised  by  her  words. 
All  his  fighting  instinct  was  roused. 

"  Not  while  I'm  above  ground !  "  he  declared.  "  I 
am  Alan  Patrick,  assistant  rector  of  the  Protestant 
Chapel  in  North  Street  in  New  York  and  you  are 
my  sister  Jane.  Buck  up  now  and  give  your  wig 
a  jerk.  A  little  more  on  the  left.  There.  Here 
he  comes.  Now,  Jane,  follow  me." 

Angela  obeyed  his  bidding,  half  frozen  with  fear, 
and  shaking  visibly,  much  to  his  concern. 

The  round-faced  young  clergyman  raised  his  face 
and  wrangled  audibly  with  Angela. 

"I  tell. you,"  he  said,  "you  must  get  down  to 
them.  You  can't  reach  these  people  through  ser- 
mons. I've  tried  it.  I've  preached  until  I  was 
black  in  the  face.  You  have  got  to  go  among 
them,  and  see  them  and  sympathise  with  them  and 
draw  them  out.  Now,  of  course,  you,  being  my 
sister,  can  understand  my  point  of  view.  But 
these  other  dunderheads!  They  make  me  tired! 
Say,"  he  added,  as  the  detective  passed  from  the 


ANGELA    IN    DISGUISE  55 

car,  "  you  don't  play  up  to  a  fellow  very  well. 
You  acted  like " 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  answered  Angela.  "  I  am 
too  frightened." 

"  Well,  you've  got  to  do  better  than  that,  be- 
cause we  are  nearly  in.  At  Washington,  there 
may  be  others.  But  I'll  stand  by  you,  if  you'll 
do  your  part." 

"  I  will,  oh,  I  will,"  said  Angela.  "  I  am  a 
Protestant.  I've  never  been  a  Catholic,"  she 
added. 

"  Ther  why "  he  began  and  stopped.  "  I 

beg  you  pardon,"  he  said.  "  I  don't  wish  to 
know  anything  you  don't  care  to  tell." 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,"  answered  Angela, 
'but  not  here.  Perhaps,  if  I  get  a  chance,  I 
could  tell  you  in  Washington.  Do  you  speak 
French?  " 

"  Well,  not  so  that  you  could  notice  it,"  said 
the  young  man,  with  his  engaging  grin.  "  I  can 
say  ;  Pah  dy  too,'  and  '  Jamais  de  la  vie/  which 
I  believe  is  equivalent  to  *  not  on  your  tintype.' 
Savay?  " 

"  I  understand  the  French,  but  not  your  trans- 
lation. Is  that  slang?  I  have  heard  of  it." 

"  Heard  of  it !  Heard  of  slang?  Didn't  you 
ever  hear  any  slang?  Never  in  your  life?  " 

Angela  shook  her  head. 

"  Here's  a  rum  go,"  said  young  Patrick,  gen- 
ially. "  I  feel  that  Laura  Jean  Libby  ought  to  hear 
of  this.  Or  William  Dean  Howells  or  any  other 
of  the  literary  persuasion  who  write  stories 
bristling  with  imagined  characters." 

Angela  looked  puzzled.  She  had  never  heard  of 
William  Dean  Howells  or  Laura  Jean  Libby,  but 
from  the  manner  in  which  the  young  man  spoke  of 
them,  she  thought  the:/  must  be  persons  of  distinc- 
tion. 


56  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  I'd  like  to  know  all  you  care  to  tell,"  he  went 
on,  "  but  there's  no  telling  what  we  may  run  up 
against  in  Washington,  so  here  is  my  card,  with 
my  New  York  address  on  it.  If  you  ever  need 
me  at  any  time,  drop  me  a  line  and  I'll  come.  In 
the  meantime,  keep  your  eyes  peeled  in  the  sta- 
tion  " 

"  Keep  my  eyes  peeled?  "  said  Angela,  in  a 
shocked  tone. 

"  Yes.    Look  alive,  you  know !  " 

"  Oh,  I  can  do  that.    I  can  look  alive " 

Alan  Patrick  peered  out  of  the  car  window,  as 
the  long  train  pulled  slowly  into  the  station,  and 
Angela,  following  his  glance,  heard  a  smothered 
exclamation. 

"  By  Jove !  If  there  isn't  Ayres  Arbuthnot  and 
the  whole  bunch !  " 

At  the  name  Ayres  Arbuthnot,  Angela,  for  no 
reason  that  she  could  ever  explain,  said  quickly: 

"Which  one  is  he?" 

"  The  tall,  big  fellow  in  the  white  sweater ! " 
Then  he  turned  to  Angela  and  said: 

"  Say,  are  you — excuse  me  for  asking — but  are 
you  a  person  of  a  great  deal  of  importance?  Is 
your  escape  likely  to  make  a  big  stir?  The  rea- 
son I  ask  is  because  three  of  our  boys  on  the  staff 
of  the  New  York  Blazed  Trail — you  know  I'm  a 
reporter  too — sent  down  to  do  the  railroad  lobby 
investigation  are  here  to  meet  this  train,  with  an- 
other plain  clothes  man  that  I  happen  to 
know- " 

He  got  no  further,  for  Angela  seized  his  arm 
with  a  look  of  such  abject  terror  that  the  young 
man  regretted  his  indiscreet  revelation. 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  am !  I  don't  know — I  don't  even 
know  who  I  am,  but  my  escape  is  likely  to  be  cut 
off  by  very  powerful  persons,  in  whose  interest 


ANGELA    IN    DISGUISE  57 

I  have  been  hidden  in  a  convent  for  seven  years ! 
I  must  not  be  taken  back!  Help  me!  Help  me 
to  get  away.  I " 

u  Where  do  you  want  to  go?  Talk  quickly! 
We've  only  a  few  seconds.  Count  on  me  to  the 
death !  "  said  Alan  Patrick,  his  honest  face  flush- 
ing with  feeling. 

"  To  Georgetown !  I  am  told  I  may  find  my 
mother  there!  " 

"Quick  then!  Take  this  money — oh,  don't  be 
a  fool !  You  can  send  it  back !  These  boys  know 
me,  so  the  sister  gag  won't  work.  I'll  hold  them, 
for  a  minute  and  you  sneak  out  of  the  other  end 
of  the  car  and  jump  for  that  purple  taxicab. 
Shake  this  roll  of  bills  before  the  chauffeur  an* 
tell  him  he'll  get  all  of  it  if  he  pulls  out  for  George- 
town and  lets  nobody  catch  him!  Now  good-bye! 
Don't  be  afraid!  I'll  cover  your  escape!  Good- 
bye! Say!  What's  your  name?" 

"  My  name  is  Angela,"  she  whispered. 

Then  before  he  could  speak  again  she  had  flitted 
like  a  pale  shadow  to  the  rear  of  the  car  and  dis- 
appeared. 

With  a  shout  of  recognition  Alan  Patrick  was 
greeted  as  he  sprang  from  the  train,  and  by  using 
every  effort,  he  staved  off  inquiries  until  he  heard 
the  panting  of  the  motor,  the  toot  of  the  horn 
and  the  noise  of  the  starting  automobile  engine 
behind  him. 

To  his  relief,  he  found  that  the  newspaper  boys 
were  not  on  the  trail  of  any  escaped  nun,  so  that 
poor,  pretty  Angela  whoever-she-was,  was  safe  as 
far  as  they  were  concerned. 

He  remained  talking  to  his  friends  for  twenty 
minutes,  giving  her  all  the  start  he  could  on  gen- 
eral principles,  but  when  he  turned  to  look  at  the 
line  of  waiting  vehicles,  he  saw  to  his  horror  that 


58  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

the  purple  taxi  had  not  driven  away.  The  han- 
soms and  hacks  were  all  gone,  but  the  only  ma- 
chine in  which  Angela  would  have  been  safe,  was 
still  at  the  curb  and  empty. 

He  looked  around  wildly,  but  no  Angela  was  to 
be  seen. 

The  plain  clothes  man  had  also  disappeared. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Pat?  "  asked  the  young 
man  in  the  white  sweater.  "  You  look  as  if  you'd 
seen  a  ghost !  " 

"  I  haven't  seen  one,"  said  Patrick.  "  I'm 
looking  for  one.  Any  of  you  fellows  got  a  time 
table?" 


CHAPTER    VIII 
ANGELA  FINDS  HER  MOTHER 

Standing  well  back  from  the  road,  hidden  in  a 
thick  grove  of  trees,  but  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  signs  of  neglect  and  decay,  was  an  old  colonial 
house,  well  built  and  surprisingly  substantial, 
considering  its  dilapidated  environment. 

White  ruffled  curtains  fluttered  from  the  win- 
dows and  the  glimpses  one  got  from  the  interior 
of  the  house  from  without,  made  it  appear  as  if 
the  approach  had  been  purposely  made  to  dis- 
courage intruders  from  penetrating  its  cosy  retreat. 

Crawling  along  the  muddy  road  in  a  ram- 
shackle carriage,  drawn  by  two  aged  horses  and 
driven  by  a  grizzled  negro  man,  sat  Angela,  peer- 
ing from  side  to  side  of  the  road. 

Occasionally  she  leaned  out  and  spoke  to  the 
driver,  who  always  answered  her  reassuringly. 

Presently  the  carriage  reached  the  entrance  to 
this  place  and  turned  in  between  the  crumbling 
piles  of  granite  which  had  once  marked  the  gate- 
way. 

The  sound  of  wheels  brought  an  old  negro  wo- 
man to  the  door.  She  opened  it  and  stood  on  the 
step  waiting  until  the  carriage  drove  up. 

The  driver  wound  the  lines  around  the  whip, 
climbed  down  and  opened  the  carriage  door.  No 
word  had  been  spokea,  yet  some  form  of  greeting 
had  passed  between  the  driver  and  the  woman  who 
watched  on  the  doorstep. 

Angela's  glance  took  in  everything  at  one  sweep. 

69 


60  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

She  was  trembling  so  that  she  could  scarcely 
stand. 

"  Could  you  tell  me  please "  she  began. 

But  at  the  first  sound  of  her  voice  the  old  negro 
woman  started  and  came  close  to  her. 

Angela  bore  her  scrutiny  eagerly.  Then,  with- 
out speaking,  the  old  negress  lifted  her  hand  and 
slowly  pushed  back  the  young  girl's  disfiguring 
wig.  As  the  red  gold  of  her  hair  came  into  view, 
the  old  woman  seized  the  girl's  hand  and  whis- 
pered : 

"Who  is  you,  pretty,  and  whah'd  you  come 
thorn?" 

"Does  Mrs.  Yorke  live  here?"  asked  Angela, 
without  replying. 

"  Yas,  honey,  she  do.     Is  you — is  you ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Angela.  Did  you  ever  hear  it  be- 
fore? Did  you  ever  see  me  before?  Tell  me,  do 
I  belong  here?  " 

With  a  loud  cry  tlie  old  woman  flung  her  apron 
over  her  head  and  sank  on  the  ground,  rock- 
ing back  and  forth  to  Angela's  great  consterna- 
tion. 

To  add  to  her  fright,  the  negro  driver  began  to 
smite  his  hands  together  and  chant. 

"  Bress  de  Lawd !  Praise  God !  Amen !  Come 
Lawd  Jesus ! " 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  the  girl.  "Why 
do  you  act  this  way?  " 

Instantly  the  old  woman  recovered  her  presence 
of  mind. 

"  I  ack  so,  caze  de  los'  am  found !  Bress  Gawd ! 
Wid  dat  red  hair  and  dat  angel  voice  an'  dat  angel 
name  what  yo'  maw  gib  you,  yo'  is  my  baby  An- 
gela, what  was  stole  thorn  us  in  de  night  time  by 
debbles  in  human  form,  mos'  ten  yeahs  ago.  Lawd, 
Loney,  lenirne  kneel  down  an'  kiss  yo'  lill  foots! 
Brer  Tawmkins!  Lif  up  yo'  voice  in  thankful- 


ness  dat  all  our  prahs  has  done  been  answered! 
Now  honey!  Come  wid  me!  Yo'  deah  mothah 
am  sittin'  in  huh  room  waitin'  for  yo'." 

Angela's  breath  came  in  gasps  as  she  crossed 
the  threshold  of  that  house.  The  old  negress  laid 
her  hand  on  Angela's  arm. 

"Take  off  yo'  hat,"  she  whispered. 

With  one  jerk  Angela  removed  hat  and  wig  and 
her  own  glorious  hair,  wound  in  flat  braids  close 
to  her  head,  she  released.  As  they  tumbled  over 
her  shoulders,  the  old  woman  broke  into  incoher- 
ent words  of  love  and  babyish  endearments  which 
caused  Angela's  impressionable  heart  to  warm  to 
the  old  woman. 

Suddenly  she  stopped. 

"Does  yo'  'member  yo'  maw?"  she  whispered, 
"er  wuz  yo'  too  little  to  know  she  had  a  stroke 
when  she  fell  down  awn  de  flo'  de  night  dey  stole 
yo'  away?  How  much  does  yo'  'member?" 

"I  remember  nothing/'  moaned  Angela.  "I 
have  no  recollection  of  my  mother  at  all ! " 

"Den  I  bettah  tell  yo'.  De  night — dat  same 
night — yo'  po'  maw  was  struck  wid  paralysis. 
She  ain't  nevah  moved  noli  spoke  since.  But  she 
sees  and  hyahs  eve'ything.  She's  been  waiting 
for  dis  moment  for  ten  long  yeahs.  Step  softly, 
honey!  Miss  Nita!  I'se  got  great  news  fo'  yo'! 
De  chile  am  back !  Dish  yere  big  girl  am  yo'  baby 
Angela ! " 

Angela  never  forgot  the  sight  which  met  her 
eyes. 

Sitting  bolt  upright  in  a  wheeled  chair,  her  back 
propped  with  pillows,  was  a  beautiful  woman, 
with  a  face  so  white,  so  terribly  still,  it  looked  as 
if  carved  from  Parian  marble. 

Snow  white  hair,  thick  and  waving,  was  drawn 
back  from  an  unlined,  low  brow.  Red  lips,  softly 
curved,  but  never  moving,  gave  the  only  touch  of 


62  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

colour  to  this  marble  face,  with  the  exception  of 
the  large  eyes  of  deep,  purplish  blue,  which,  in  con- 
trast to  the  immobility  of  the  rest  of  her  counte- 
nance, seemed  almost  to  leap  from  her  head,  in 
their  eagerness  to  express  what  the  silent  tongue 
could  never  utter. 

In  response  to  what  she  saw  in  her  mother's 
eyes,  Angela  sprang  forward  and  gathered  this 
still,  rigid  form  in  her  warm,  young  arms.  She 
covered  her  mother's  face  with  kisses  of  agonised 
love  and  passionate  tenderness.  She  clung  to  her, 
as  if  to  make  up,  in  an  instant's  fervour,  for  all 
the  years  of  absence  and  suffering  which  were  so 
pitiably  expressed  in  her  mother's  still,  tense  face, 
while  the  eyes,  which  alone  could  speak,  rained 
scalding  tears,  which  her  own  helpless  hands  could 
never  be  lifted  to  wipe  away. 

The  anguish,  the  starved  love  of  years,  the  suf- 
fering of  such  a  meeting  can  never  be  expressed. 
It  was  many  a  year  before  Angela  could  think  of 
the  mingled  pain  and  joy  of  that  first  embrace 
without  a  contraction  of  the  heart  which  was  akin 
to  an  acute  pain. 

Strong  natures  suffer  pleasure  as  deeply  as  they 
suffer  anguish,  and  the  strength  of  these  two  was 
proven  in  that  they  had  bridged  the  years  and  the 
distance  and  the  obstacles  which  lay  between  their 
hearts  by  a  love  so  strong  and  so  enduring  that  it 
finally  drew  them  together  again. 

The  old  negress  watched  them  tearfully.  She 
kept  entering  the  room  to  help  them  to  understand 
each  other  and  leaving  it  that  they  might  be  alone 
together. 

It  seemed  hours  before  Angela  could  tear  her 
arms  away  from  her  mother's  waist  or  shoulders. 
All  the  agony  of  her  years  of  uncertainty  and  the 
terrors  she  had  undergone  in  the  last  two  days 


ANGELA:  FINDS  HER  SMOTHER^    63 

found  a  recompense  in  the  joy  and  gratitude  she 
felt  at  clasping  her  mother  in  her  arms. 

She  was  not  even  dismayed  at  discovering  her 
mother's  sad  condition.  It  was  enough  for  Angela 
to  find  that  she  was  alive. 

"Does  she  know  me?  Does  she  hear  me?  Does 
she  understand  all  I  say?"  asked  Angela. 

"  'Deed  she  does !  She  hyahs  eve'yt'ing.  Only 
she  can't  speak.  I  did  hab  hopes  dat  when  she  saw 
you,  hit  would  loosen  huh  bonds.  I'se  done  been 
prayin'  foh  dat  foh  ten  yeahs!" 

"  What  am  I  to  call  you?  "  asked  Angela,  shyly. 

"  You  jes'  call  me  '  Mammy '  lak  you  done  when 
you  was  a  lill  baby  en  my  arms!  En  lemme  tell 
you  how  yo'  maw  talks.  When  she  turns  huh  eyes 
dis  way,  hit  means  '  yes/  When  she  turns  'em  dat 
way,  hit  means  '  no.'  Foh  de  res,  you  has  to  guess 
at  hit.  I  feeds  her  jes'  what  she  used  to  lake  when 
she  was  well.  En  I  keep  her  ha'h  washed  and 
waved  en  I  makes  all  her  unduhclose  by  han',  en 
all  dese  yeahs,  I'se  done  all  I  could  to  make  her 
comfortable,  jes'  waitin'  foh  dis  day.  Bress  Gawd, 
hit  done  come !  De  answer  to  all  our  prahs !  Tell 
us,  honey  chile!  Whah  you  been  all  dis  time,  en 
huccome  you  to  fin'  us?" 

"I  have  been  in  a  Catholic  orphan  asylum — a 
place  where  they  take  children  who  have  no  par- 
ents. And  a  nun  from  the  Convent  which  supports 
this  Home  educated  me  and  got  to  loving  me  so, 
she  helped  me  to  get  away.  I  can  never  forget  her 
goodness,  for  she  believes  that  she  risked  her  soul's 
salvation  in  what  she  did  for  me.  >Yet  she  loved 
me  more  than  even  that!" 

"  She  ain't  resked  nothin' ! "  affirmed  the  old 
woman.  "  I  don.'  b'leeve  in  no  God  dat  punishes 
his  chillen  fer  lovin'  each  other  an'  bein'  good  an' 
kin'!" 


64  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"I  told  her  that,"  answered  Angela. 

"  You  come  in  answer  to  my  prahs,"  reiterated 
Mammy.  "  Yo'  eben  come  jes'  lake  I  knowed  you 
would.  Jes'  a-driving  up  easy  lake,  in  Brer  Tawm- 
kins  ole  hack.  He's  done  been  a-prahin'  fuh  yo' 
too." 

"  Then  I  was  led  to  him,"  said  Angela,  "  for  I 
met  another  friend  on  the  train  who  told  me  to 
take  a  taxicab  in  Washington  and  come  to  George- 
town that  way.  But  just  as  I  was  about  to  do  it, 
I  saw  that  old  hack,  and  the  driver  turned  and 
gave  me  such  a  kind,  encouraging  look — it  seemed, 
all  at  once,  as  if  I  remembered  him.  And  as  I 
started  toward  him  he  pulled  up  his  horses,  and  I 
said,  '  I  want  to  go  to  Georgetown.  Do  you  know 
where  it  is? '  And  he  said,  *  I  lib  there,  lill  Missy ! 
Jes'  git  right  in!  '  So  then  I  knew  that  he  knew 
the  way,  and  I  leaned  back  and  hid  behind  the  cur- 
tains. It  was  a  good  thing  I  did,  for  a  man  I 
thought  was  looking  for  me,  passed  by  in  a  big 
automobile,  and  he  never  thought  to  look  at  my 
shabby  old  hack,  with  its  poor  old  thin  horses,  that 
I  thought  would  give  out  at  every  step." 

"  Yo'  was  led ! "  asserted  Mammy,  nodding  her 
grey  head  positively. 

"  I  know  I  was ! "  answered  Angela.  "  For  after 
we  got  so  far  away  from  the  station  that  I  dared 
show  myself,  I  asked  him  if  he  knew  a  Mrs.  Yorke 
living  near  Georgetown,  and  of  course  he  did  and 
brought  me  directly  to  your  door." 

"  Kin  yo'  'member  me  at  all?  Er  yo'  Maw?  Er 
yo'  Paw?  "  asked  Mammy,  anxiously. 

"  I  remember  nothing  clearly.  But  yet  many 
things  seem  familiar.  Perhaps — after  I  am 
rested " 

Mammy  got  up  hurriedly. 

"  Now,  lemme  tell  you !    You  is  jes'  nachally  wo' 


ANGELA    FINDS   HER    MOTHER        65 

out!  En  much  as  we  bofe  want  to,  we  am'  gwine 
mek  yo'  talk  no  mo'  tell  aftah  yo'  has  et  and  slep! 
You  jes'  sit  hyah  whah  yo'  maw  can  feel  you,  en  I 
gwine  goin'  git  yo'  suppah.  My  ole  man,  Lucas, 
has  done  been  to  Jawdgtown  dis  atternoon,  en  he'll 
hab  a  fit — you  alls  got  to  stan'  dat  yit! — so  you 
ain't  gwine  to  hab  no  othah  tax  put  awn  yo'  flis 
night.  Honey  chile,"  she  said,  looking  at  Mrs. 
Yorke,  "  Shall  I  cook  baby  girl  some  of  my  rice 
waffles?  You  see  how  she  answah  me,  baby?  All 
right!  I'll  cook  'em!  " 

The  old  black  woman,  her  face  shining  with  love 
and  the  eagerness  to  serve,  which  make  of  any  face 
a  thing  of  beauty — that  beauty  which  endures — 
glided  away,  and  Angela  was  left  alone  with  her 
mother. 

For  an  hour  they  sat  there  in  the  soft  falling 
darkness,  neither  speaking,  but  full  of  complete 
communication.  Angela  held  her  mother's  cold 
hand  in  both  of  hers.  At  first  it  felt  entirely  life- 
less, but  at  length  Angela  felt  that  some  of  its 
nerves  or  muscles  gave  back  a  faint  twitching,  in 
answer  to  her  loving  strokings  and  caresses.  The 
girl  hardly  dared  believe. 

When  Mammy  came  back,  she  spread  supper  on 
two  small  tabourettes  close  by  the  wheeled  chair 
of  the  invalid,  and  deftly  served  them  both. 

Angela  said  nothing  of  her  hopes  of  her  mother's 
improved  condition,  until  Mammy  gave  an  excla- 
mation. 

" Bress  de  Lawd!    She's  movin'  huh  lips!" 

A  faint  movement  was  indeed  discernible,  which, 
as  the  supper  progressed,  developed  into  a  feeble 
effort  to  chew  the  carefully  prepared  spoonfuls  of 
food  Mammy  fed  her  as  deftly  and  daintily  as  one 
would  feed  a  pretty  baby. 

The  two  watching  her  could  scarcely  credit  their 


66  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

senses,  nor  contain  their  joy.  To  their  minds,  it 
seemed  to  indicate  a  complete  recovery. 

And  so  they  were  happy,  and  when  Uncle  Lucas 
came  in,  all  the  joy  and  surprise  were  enacted  over 
again.  Yet  Angela's  tense  nerves  bore  everything 
until  Mammy  divined  how  she  felt  and  began  to 
prepare  them  for  the  night. 

"To-morrow,  when  de  sun  am  hyah,  all  shinin' 
en  bright,  to  hep  us  awn  our  way,  we'll  set  ole 
Lucas  to  work,  en  we  three  will  sit  by  the  windahs 
all  ca'm  en  comfo'table,  en  tell  all  we  knows  or 
'members  to  each  other,  en  de  sunshine  will  hep 
us  to  unwine  dis  tangle." 

The  wheeled  chair  was  rolled  to  the  side  of  An- 
gela's bed,  and  made  into  a  couch.  Mammy  took 
the  place  of  Soeur  Marthe  and  brushed  and  braided 
the  tired  girl's  lovely  hair.  Then  side  by  side,  and 
still  clasping  her  mother's  hand,  Angela  fell 
asleep. 

But  the  mother's  eyes  did  not  once  close  during 
the  long  hours  of  that  weary  night.  The  joy  of 
feeling  the  clasp  of  a  hand  which  she  had  almost 
ceased  to  hope  for  during  all  these  years,  was  too 
keen  to  be  wasted  in  sleep.  She  felt  that  she  must 
taste  such  happiness  slowly  and  let  such  balm 
distil  itself  drop  by  drop  over  her  aching  heart. 

And  all  through  the  long  hours  went  whispering 
the  words  of  the  old  black  woman. 

"  De  sunshine  will  hep  us  to  unwine  dis  tangle ! " 


CHAPTER    IX 
MAMMY  TELLS  HER  STORY 

When  Angela  opened  her  eyes  the  next  morning, 
it  was  in  the  first  really  happy  awakening  she  had 
ever  experienced. 

She  found  her  mother's  eyes  wide  open  and  fixed 
upon  her  face,  and  in  response  to  their  mute  yearn- 
ing, Angela  sprang  up  and  lavished  upon  that  in- 
animate form  all  the  caresses  it  was  an  equal  joy 
to  her  to  give,  and  for  her  mother  to  receive. 

She  helped  Mammy  to  bathe  and  dress  the  invalid 
for  the  day,  and  when  breakfast  was  over,  and  the 
two  were  seated  in  the  late  autumn  sunshine, 
Mammy  answered  Angela's  impatient  summons 
before  her  work  was  half  done  and  seated  herself 
to  begin  her  story. 

"  Dar's  so  much  to  tell,  honey  chile,  dat  ef  you 
all  will  jes'  ax  me  questions  to  set  me  goin',  it'll 
be  easier  for  me  to  understan'  what  is  puzzlin'  yo' 
de  mos'.  Hit's  all  a  puzzle  to  me!" 

"  Tell  me  just  how  you  came  to  know  me  in- 
stantly?" said  Angela.  "I  forgot  to  ask  you  last 
night." 

"  Know  you  ?  Well,  I  reckon !  You  ain't 
changed  so  much  thorn  yo'  baby  looks  in  de  first 
place,  en  in  de  nex',  you'se  got  three  signs  in  plain 
sight  dat  yo'  is  our  lill  Angela.  Dat  cow-lick  on 
de  side  of  yo'  fo'head  wuz  enough  foh  me,  let 
alone  de  dimple  at  de  corner  ob  yo'  sweet  mouf — 
sech  a  dimple  ez  I  ain't  never  seen  befo'.  En  dat 
lill  scar  awn  yo'  temple  whah  yo'  mos'  split  yo' 

67 


68  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

lill  head  open,  fallin'  off  de  woodpile  when  you 
was  watch  in'  Lucas  chop  de  wood." 

Angela  smiled  absent-mindedly.  She  had  never 
seen  these  minute  signs  in  her  own  face,  mirrors 
being  well-nigh  unknown  to  her. 

"Now  tell  me  whose  house  this  is  and  how  you 
came  to  be  here ! "  said  Angela. 

"  Dish  yere  is  de  house  yo'  Paw  brought  yo'  Maw 
to  awn  dere  wedding  journey.  Hit  belonged  to 
some  kin  folks  ob  hisn,  en  wuz  for  sale.  Dey  wuz 
so  happy  hyah,  he  done  buyed  it  and  put  ole  Lucas 
en  me  awn  de  place  to  keep  it  up.  We'se  been  hyah 
fo'  twenty  yeahs. 

"Dey  ain't  never  come  back,  dough  ev'ry  yeah 
dey  write  me  dey'se  a-comin'.  En  yeah  in  en  yeah 
out  me  en  Lucas  kep  de  flo'es  polish  en  de  beds 
aired,  expectin'  vem.  But  dey  never  come,  tell  one 
night — hit  wuz  de  coldes'  night  I  eber  see,  a  hack 
drive  up  in  de  middle  ob  de  night,  en  dere  wuz  an 
awful  knockin'  at  de  do',  en  when  I  got  de  do'  open, 
in  come  yo'  maw,  lookin'  as  wild  as  any  crazy 
woman  yo'  eber  see.  You  wuz  a  lill  ting,  about 
tree  years  qld,  en  all  wrapped  up  in  huh  arms. 
When  I  pulls  huh  in  to  de  room. 

" '  Mammy,'  she  whispers,  '  dey  got  him,  en  dey 
are  af tah  baby  en  me !  Hide  us ! '  she  say.  I  see 
she  didn't  quite  know  what  she  wuz  sayin',  so  I 
tuk  de  baby — dat  wuz  you — en  we  pulled  down  de 
blin's  en  build  up  a  roarin'  fiah  en  got  her  quieted 
down  some,  but  she  wuz  neber  huhsef.  We  had  to 
keep  the  house  shut  up  by  day  en  only  go  out  at 
night,  en  ef  I  hadn't  made  huh  lemme  tek  yo'  out 
in  de  sunshine,  you'd  a  been  daid  befo'  now. 
Babies  en  chillen  needs  sunshine  jes  lake 
flowahs  do. 

"  I  didn'  neber  believe  all  she  said,  caze  I  sholy 
thought  she  wuz  crazy.  She  kep'  tellin'  me  dat 
everybody  thought  yo'  paw  done  run  off  en  lef 


MAMMY   TELLS    HER    STORY  69 

huh,  but  she  knowd  dey'd  got  him  hid  somewhah. 
She  neber  mentioned  no  name,  and  ef  I  ax  huh 
who  got  him,  she  would  get  so  white  en  sick-lookin' 
en  trimble  so  en  go  en  hide  away,  till  I  quit  axin' 
huh. 

"  So  we  kep'  awn  livin'  dat-away  foh  'bout  fo' 
yeahs.  We  had  plenty  ob  money  and  yo'  maw  gib 
it  out  wid  a  free  han'.  She  had  hit  in  a  big  wooden 
box  wid  iron  clamps  awn  it — yas,  honey 

"  Stop !  "  said  Angela.  "  My  mother  is  trying  to 
say  something.  Look  at  her!  What  is  it,  darling? 
What  it  is  you  want  to  say?" 

"  She  always  acks  dat  way  when  I  tells  'bout  de 
money  in  de  strong  box.  But,  honey,  ef  hit  wasn't 
money,  what  was  it?  En  why  did  dey  come 
en " 

"  Wait  a  moment !  "  said  Angela.  "  Can't  you 
see  that  something  you  are  telling  disturbs  her? 
She  has  been  listening  eagerly  to  everything  until 
you  told  me  about  the  money  in  the  strong  box. 
Do  you  see  that?  She  is  saying  '  No ! '  What  are 
you  trying  to  say,  mother  dear?  What  was  in  the 
strong  box?  Was  it  money?  No?  What,  then? 
What  could  be  of  great  value?  Papers!  Were 
there  valuable  papers  and  letters  in  that  box? 
Look  at  her,  Mammy!  Look  at  her  eyes!  She  is 
weeping !  And  doing  her  best  to  say  *  Yes.'  We 
understand  you,  dear  mother!  Make  yourself 
easy!  Mammy,  there  was  no  money  in  that  box. 
It  was  full  of  valuable  papers." 

"  Papahs !  "  repeated  Mammy.     "  Papahs !  " 

"  Did  you  never  see  any  of  them,  nor  read  them, 
Mammy?"  asked  Angela. 

Mammy  picked  nervously  at  her  apron,  and 
looked  appealingly  at  her  mistress,  whose  eyes 
were  straining  to  express  something,  and  roving 
eagerly  from  Mammy  to  Angela. 

"  I — I    cyant    read,    pretty,"    faltered    the    old 


70  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

woman,  at  last.  "  No,  nor  write.  En  neither  kin 
Lucas.  Dat's  why  yo'  po'  maw  has  been  so  belt 
down.  We  couldn'  write  no  lettahs  fo'  huh.  Nor 
read  dose  dat  done  come.  I'se  opened  all  ob  dem 
dat  come  en  helt  'em  whah  she  could  read  'em, 
but  dat  wuz  de  end.  We  couldn't  answer  dem  and 
she  lake  to  had  a  fit  at  de  mention  ob  anybody 
else  seein'  'em." 

"Have  any  come  lately?"  asked  Angela. 

"  We  ain't  eben  got  a  postal  cyard  in  tree  yeahs. 
'Pears  lake  ev'rybody  done  forgot  yo'  po'  maw  am 
alive." 

"  But  that  seems  so  utterly  impossible,"  said 
Angela.  "  I  have  had  little  experience  in  the 
world,  but  Soeur  Marthe,  the  dear  nun  who  took 
care  of  us,  has  told  me  all  about  her  life,  so  that  I 
know  much  that  I  have  never  experienced,  and  I 
cannot  understand  how  one  could  hide  for  years 
and  not  be  hunted  for  by  somebody.  Surely  my 
mother  had  relatives  who  much  have  been  dis- 
tracted by  her  disappearance.  Did  she  never  get 
letters  from  any  of  them?" 

"  She  used  to  git  all  de  newspapahs  and  read  'em 
till  one  day  she  done  tole  me  she  done  read  dat 
'  dey  ' — she  ain't  neber  name  'em — had  'nounced 
dat  she  was  locked  up  in  a  'sylum.  *  Dat  means  I 
am  dead  to  de  worl',  Mammy,'  she  say.  '  Let  it 
go ! ' " 

Angela  turned  impatiently  to  her  mother. 

"Who  were  these  wicked  people,  dearest?"  she 
said.  "Were  they  enemies  of  my  father?  They 
were?  Why?  Did  they  want  my  father's  life? 
No?  Was  he  rich?  No?  Then  they  could  not 
have  wanted  his  money!  What?  They  wanted 
his  money?  Yes?  I  can't  understand  her, 
Mammy ! " 

"  Maybe  dey  wanted  some  power  he  had,"  sug- 


MAMMY   TELLS   HER   STORY          71 

gested  the  old  black  woman.  "  Dali !  Look  at 
dat!" 

"  He  held  some  power  they  wanted?  Yes,  that 
must  be  it.  But  not  quite.  Were  they  in  his 
power?  Now,  we've  got  it,  Mammy!  These  ene- 
mies of  my  father  were  in  his  power!  They  were 
afraid  of  him — of  what  he  could  do  to  them, 
weren't  they,  mother?  And  so — what  did  they  do 
with  him?  Is  he  dead?  No?  She  doesn't  seem  to 
know.  I'll  ask  her.  Do  you  know  where  my  father 
is  now?  No,  she  doesn't.  Do  you  think  they 
killed  him?  No?  Then  you  must  believe  him  alive. 
Do  you  think  he  is  in  prison?  No?  In  an  insane 
asylum?  She  doesn't  know.  You  don't  know  what 
to  think?  I  see." 

"Well,  well,  chile!  Yo'  done  got  mo'  out  ob 
huh  in  one  hour  dan  I'se  got  in  ten  yeahs.  Ef  you 
keep  awn,  you'll  get  de  whole  story." 

"  Mammy,  how  in  the  world  have  you  managed 
all  these  years?  If  you  had  so  much  money,  surely 
somebody  must  have  been  interested  in  you  for 
just  that.'7 

"  Dey  didn't  git  de  chancet ! "  said  the  old 
woman,  her  wrinkled  face  at  once  taking  on  a 
look  of  incalculable  shrewdness.  "  When  I  see  dat 
yo'  maw  was  sot  on  keepin'  hid,  I  knowd  we  mus' 
seem  po',  so — is  I  tole  you  how  de  money  comes? " 

"  No,"  said  Angela. 

"Awn  de  fust  day  ob  each  month,  de  express  com- 
pany brings  a  package  to  de  do',  en  in  hit  am  two 
hundred  dollahs  in  five-dollah  bills." 

"  You  say  that  money  comes  every  month? " 
asked  Angela,  aghast.  "  Did  it  come  just  that  way 
before  I  was  kidnapped?" 

"  No,  yo'  maw  had  a  lot,  en  we  didn'  spen'  much. 
Hit  commenced  comin'  af tah  dey  stole  you !  " 

"Then  the  money  comes  from  my  kidnappers," 


72  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

said  Angela.  "And  they  must  be,  of  course,  the 
same  ones  who  sent  me  to  St.  Ursula's,  and  who 
came  every  year  to  see  if  I  was  safe." 

"  Did  you  evah  git  to  see  ary  one  of  'em? "  asked 
Mammy,  eagerly. 

"  No,  but  I  have  heard  the  voice  of  one,  and  I 
know  from  Soeur  Marthe  that  he  has  Chinese  eyes. 
She  has  seen  him  face  to  face,  but  does  not  know 
his  name.  He  lives  in  New  York." 

Angela  and  Mammy  were  not  looking  at  the  in- 
valid as  they  were  saying  this,  but  Angela,  hap- 
pening to  glance  up,  was  fairly  terrified  at  the 
expression  of  pain  and  fear  in  her  mother's  eyes. 
They  were  flashing  wildly  from  side  to  side,  as  if 
straining  to  express  themselves  in  speech. 

"  Do  you  know  him,  mother?  Was  he  one  of  the 
men  who  stole  me?  He  was?  Oh,  mother,  cant 
you  tell  his  name?  Oh,  how  can  I  make  her  tell?  " 

"Ain't  dere  such  a  ting  as  a  d'rectory  ob  New 
York?  Dey's  got  'em  in  Jawdgetown,"  said 
Mammy,  whose  native  shrewdness  had  been  largely 
developed  by  ten  years  of  trying  to  make  the  dumb 
lips  of  her  beloved  mistress  communicate  the 
thoughts  of  her  walled-up  brain. 

"  There  must  be,"  said  Angela,  "  but  it  would  be 
so  large  it  would  take  months  to  find  his  name. 
Oh — I  wonder!  There  must  be  a  telephone  direc- 
tory— we  had  one  at  St.  Ursula's,  and  in  that — < 
mother,  if  I  could  get  a  New  York  telephone  di- 
rectory and  begin  the  alphabet,  could  you  tell  me 
the  names  of  those  men?  Yes?  And  their  busi- 
ness? There,  Mammy!  I  begin  to  see  daylight!" 

Angela  was  much  encouraged  at  the  expression 
in  her  mother's  eyes.  The  terror,  the  pain,  even 
the  anxiety  was  fading  from  them,  and  instead 
there  was  coming  a  look  of  relief,  almost  of  tran- 
quillity. 


MAMMY   TELLS   HEK   STORY  73 

Could  the  impossible  be  about  to  happen?  If 
Bhe  could  discover  these  men,  would  anyone  help 
her  to  divine  their  motives  and  thus  lead  to  pos- 
sible success? 

The  young  girl  turned  impetuously  to  Mammy 
again. 

"  Is  there  no  one  who  could  help  us,  Mammy?  " 

The  old  woman  shook  her  head. 

"Sence  de  ole  doctah  died '' 

Angela  started.  She  remembered  the  words  she 
had  heard  through"  the  register — "  Now  that  the 
old  doctor  is  dead  who  was  called  in  when  it  hap- 
pened, the  last  one  we  need  fear  is  out  of  the 
way ! '' 

Her  heart  sank  as  the  hopelessness  of  her  task 
was  again  forced  upon  her.  Still,  she  could  not 
utterly  despair,  since  she  had  been  thus  marvel- 
lously sped  on  her  way,  she  felt  sure  that  it  must 
be  to  some  purpose. 

"  Tell  me  about  him,"  she  said. 

"  Dere  ain't  much  to  tell,  honey,  caze  de  mistis, 
she  didn'  want  eben  him  aroun',  dough  he  was  one 
ob  de  bes'  men  dat  eber  lib.  He  got  huh  dis  yere 
hospital  cheer  en  hepped  me  to  keep  folks  away 
from  hyah.  De  mistis  didn'  want  me  to  tell  him  a 
ting,  but,  honey,  I  was  'bleeged  to  go  agin  my 
darlin'  in  jes'  dat  one  ting.  I  had  to  have  advice 
thorn  some  white  man,  en  I  said  to  Dr.  Callaway, 
*  Is  you  a  man  of  Gawd? '  En  he  said,  '  Ole  ooman, 
I  cyant  say  dat  I  is.  But  I  b'lieves  in  Him,  en 
eben  ef  I  didn',  I  wouldn'  hahm  a  hair  ob  dat  po', 
gentle  lady's  haid.  So  tell  me  what  yo'  feels  dat 
yo'  mus',  en  ef  I  kin  be  ob  service,  yo'  kin  comman' 
me! '  Dem  wuz  jes'  his  words.  So  den  I  tole  him 
as  much  as  I  had  tub,  en  he  wrote  letters  en  tried 
his  bes',  but  he  was  jes'  an  ole-timey  country  doc- 
tah, what  went  aroun'  in  a  ole  chaise,  docterin' 


74  ANGELA'S  QUEST 

people,  mos'  ob  de  time,  widout  pay.  En  I  always 
felt  in  my  bones  dat  he  didn'  know  how  to  hep  us.5' 

"  Then  how  did  he  get  such  a  beautiful  chair?  '* 
asked  Angela. 

The  old  woman  permitted  herself  one  of  her  rare 
laughs. 

"  Honey,  ef  you  could  V  seen  him  when  he  saw 
how  fine  en  new  fangled  hit  wuz,  you'd  'a'  knowd 
dat  he  wuz  mo'  surprised  by  hit's  fineness  dan  we 
wuz.  He  cut  a  piece  out  ob  a  Washington  papah 
and  tole  me  he  wuz  goin'  to  write  to  some  people 
what  made  cheers  foh  de  sick,  to  send  him  de 
prices.  Dey  sent  him  a  lill  book,  wid  pictures,  en 
de  finest  one  tuk  my  eye.  He  laff  when  I  said  we 
wanted  dat  one,  en  he  said,  '  Ole  ooman,  yo'  pride 
got  tuh  tek  a  fall.  Dat's  de  highest  price  cheer 
made ! '  He  wuz  too  polite  to  tell  me  to  my  face 
dat  we  couldn'  afford  it.  So  I  jes'  quietly  ax  him 
how  much  it  cost,  en  when  he  tell  me,  I  jes'  retch 
my  han'  in  my  bosom,  en  pull  out  dis  yere  ole  yarn 
stockin'  of  Lucas'  en  I  handed  out  twenty  dollahs 
mo*  dan  he  ax  foh.  Honey,  I  sho  wisht  yo'  could 
'a'  seen  dat  ole  man's  eyes  pop.  Hit  done  me  good. 
I  jes'  leant  back  in  my  cheer  en  rocked  awn  a 
squeaky  boa'd  to  show  him  I  wuz  rockin'  as  keer- 
less  ez  ef  hit  hadn'  mos'  kilt  me  to  leggo  ob  so  much 
money  all  at  onct,  caze  den  I  didn'  know  dat  mo' 
wuz  comin'  eve'y  month.  But  I  played  de  game, 
en  atter  dat  he  wuz  so  respeckful,  ez  well  ez  bein' 
kin'  en  pitiful,  dat  we  wuz  great  friends.  He 
neber  call  me  '  ole  ooman '  atter  dat.  He  call  me 
1  Mammy.' " 

Angela  laughed  outright  and  the  invalid's  eyes 
smiled. 

"  Didn't  the  news  of  your  wealth  get  out  after 
that?  *'  asked  Angela. 

"No,  indeedy,  not  aftah  I  done  tole  Dr.  Calla- 


MAMMY   TELLS    HER   STORY          75 

way  how  hard  I  had  to  manage  to  keep  it  quiet. 
Yo'  see,  honey,  Brer  Tawmkins,  what  drove  de 
hack  yo'  come  in,  is  de  treasurer  ob  our  chutch,  en 
he  gits  de  mos'  ob  de  collections  in  dimes  en  nick- 
els, so  I  tole  him  to  save  'em  all  foh  me,  en  I  gibs 
him  de  new  five  dollah  bills,  en  he's  so  proud  to 
hab  folks  tink  we  got  a  man  rich  enough  to  put 
five  dollahs  in  de  collection  plate,  he  mos'  bus'. 
Den  I  deals  out  de  ole  woe-out  money  to  de  grocer 
en  butcher,  en  nobody  tinks  we  got  anyting  else.'' 

Angela's  eloquent  eyes  spoke  her  appreciation  of 
Mammy's  story.  Her  mind,  so  naturally  keen  and 
so  well  trained  by  Soeur  Marthe,  wras  admirably 
adapted  to  appreciate  the  shrewdness  by  which 
this  ignorant  old  woman  had  guarded  her  mis- 
tress and  kept  her  whereabouts  secret  in  a  manner 
so  cunning  that  many  a  more  educated  intelligence 
might  well  take  lessons  from  her  native  wit. 

"  It  is  wonderful,  the  way  you  have  managed 
everything,  dear  Mammy,"  she  said.  "  But  go  back 
to  the  place  in  your  story  where  we  branched  off. 
No,  just  wait  a  minute.  I  want  to  ask  one  ques- 
tion." 

Angela  turned  to  her  mother. 

"Were  those  papers  more  valuable  to  anyone 
else  than  they  were  to  you?  "  she  asked,  and  in  the 
most  vehement  affirmative  the  poor  lady  could 
give,  she  indicated  they  were. 

"What  became  of  the  strong  box?"  asked  An- 
gela of  Mammy. 

"One  night,"  said  the  old  woman,  "Lucas  had 
been  to  town  foh  some  groceries,  en  yo'  maw  was 
sitting  wid  yo'  in  huh  arms.  You  wuz  a  big  girl 
'long  about  seben  yeahs  old,  nigh  ez  I  kin  'member. 
You  wuz  asleep  wid  yo'  putty  curls  all  hangiri' 
ovah  huh  arm.  Yo'  maw  had  been  habin'  one  ob 
huh  wo'st  days.  She  had  been  talkin'  aloud  to 


76  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Tmhself  en  wringin'  huh  hands  en  goin'  awn  about 
yo'  paw's  havin'  run  off,  en  I  wuz  about  wo'  out 
wid  tendin'  to  huh. 

"I  reckon  I  mus'  hab  dropped  asleep  en  my 
cheer,  foh  de  fust  ting  I  heerd  wuz  a  shriek  dat 
turned  my  blood  to  watali.  I  jumped  up  en  run  in, 
en  dah  lay  yo'  moth  ah  awn  de  flo'  jes'  lake  she's 
dead.  De  strong  box  wuz  gone,  en  yo'  wuz  gone, 
en  all  I  could  heah  v,Tuz  a  automobile  racin'  away 
in  de  darkness  wid  no  one  to  call  to  er  chase  atter 
it  nor  do  nothin'. 

"  I  pick  up  yo'  maw  en  she  jes'  lake  she  is  to- 
day. She  had  a  stroke  en  she  ain't  never  moved 
nor  spoke  sence." 

The  old  woman  had  told  her  story  with  no  sense 
of  self-consciousness — had  told  it  simply  and 
plainly,  but  as  Angela,  through  her  tears,  looked 
at  the  clean,  well-kept  house  and  the  exquisite 
bodily  condition  of  her  mother,  a  sudden  compre- 
hension of  the  faithfulness  of  these  two  ignorant 
old  negroes  swept  over  her. 

She  sprang  up  and  flung  her  fresh  young  arms 
around  the  old  coloured  woman,  and  kissing  her 
on  the  cheek,  she  said: 

"You  dear  old  faithful  soul!  It  is  due  to  you 
and  to  dear  old  Uncle  Lucas  and  to  your  tireless 
care  of  her  all  these  years  that  my  precious  mother 
is  alive  to-day.  How  can  I  ever  thank  you  or  love 
you  enough  for  all  your  devotion  to  her?  " 

The  old  coloured  woman  was  frankly  taken 
aback  by  this  impulsive  expression  of  gratitude. 
She  had  taken  care  of  her  mistress  with  no  thought 
of  reward  or  thanks,  as  a  matter  of  course,  duty 
often  being  to  those  devoted  coloured  people  who 
served  the  whites  so  faithfully  in  years  gone  by, 
the  one  thing  they  performed  instinctively. 

Mammy  was  greatly  moved  by  Angela's  caress. 


MAMMY   TELLS    HER    STORY  77 

Her  face  worked  spasmodically  for  a  moment,  then 
two  tears  rolled  down  lier  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  De  Lawd  bress  you,  my  pretty !  I  ain't  neber 
give  de  mattah  a  thought.  I  love  yo'  po'  niothah 
lake  she  wuz  my  own  baby,  en  ef  I  could  'a'  kilt  de 
man  what  stole  you  away  and  lef  huh  lake  dis,  I 
sho'  would  'a'  done  hit.  But  I'se  grateful  foh  yo' 
kiss,  and  I'll  never  forgit  dat  you  give  it  to  me." 

As  Angela  went  back  to  her  chair  she  saw  that 
her  mother  was  pleased  with  her  for  expressing  to 
the  old  coloured  woman  what  she  could  not  say  for 
herself. 

The  girl  knit  her  brow  in  deep  thought. 

"  There  are  so  many  things  to  be  explained,  which 
seemingly  never  can  be  explained,"  she  cried. 
"  Why  was  I  stolen?  Why  did  my  father  leave  my 
mother?  Who  made  him  go?  For  that  he  ever 
left  her  of  his  own  accord  I  will  never  believe! 
And  see,  Mammy!  She  does  not  believe  it  either! 
Were  there  some  people  who  wanted  to  separate 
you  from  jealousy?  No?  Are  there  any  letters  or 
papers  in  this  house  which  will  throw  any  light  on 
the  mystery?  No?  Are  the  papers  which  were 
stolen  in  the  possession  of  someone  now?  Could 
anyone  get  these  back?  Do  you  know  who  has 
them?  And  most  of  all,  can  I  ever  find  out  their 
names?  " 

"  Now,  now,  honey ! "  warned  the  old  woman. 
"  I  understan'  yo'  anxiety  to  know  hit  all  in  de 
fust  few  hours,  but  yo'  ain't  to  excite  yo'  mothah 
too  much  all  to  onct!  I  ain't  gwine  hab  huh  sick. 
Jes'  les'  res'  awhile  en  lemme  ax  you  questions. 
De  fust  one  is  gwine  be  de  same  as  de  las'  one. 
Don'  yo'  know  anybody  in  all  dis  worl'  who  could 
hep  us?  " 

"  Let  me  think,"  said  Angela. 


CHAPTER    X 


Three  months  after  Alan  Patrick  had  met  and 
befriended  a  frightened  girl  on  a  train,  he  chanced 
to  be  walking  up  Fifth  Avenue  one  bright  morn- 
ing in  the  hope  of  meeting  Midget  Arbuthnot,  who 
had  contracted  the  habit  of  amusing  herself  by 
torturing  him  almost  past  bearing. 

But  that  he  bore  up  under  it  and  even  sought  to 
prolong  and  intensify  his  sufferings,  was  attested 
to  by  the  fact  that  he  flung  himself  in  her  path  in 
the  most  reckless  and  frequent  way. 

He  haunted  the  places  where  she  was  wont  to 
go,  and  cultivated  each  and  every  member  of  the 
Arbuthnot  family  in  the  servile  and  assiduous 
manner  best  known  to  lovers  in  the  early  and  un- 
certain stages  of  similar  courtships. 

On  this  particular  day,  his  pertinacity  was  re- 
warded by  meeting  her,  and  she,  being  in  a  mood 
of  unwonted  amiability,  or  perhaps  to  raise  him 
to  a  height  of  happiness  whence  it  would  be  more 
amusing  to  dash  him  downward  to  despair  later, 
invited  him  to  come  home  to  luncheon  w^ith  her. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  his  time  being  more  than 
usually  his  own  on  that  day,  he  accepted  with 
eagerness. 

He  had  not  seen  her  more  than  once  or  twice  in 
these  three  months,  although  daily  letters  had  at- 
tested to  his  loyalty. 

As  they  sat  down  to  the  table  the  young  man 
said: 

"Where  is  Ayres? " 

Midge  gave  him  a  quick  look,  replete  with  an 

78 


ANGELA   FINDS   A   FRIEND  79 

unmitigated  scorn,  that  his  face  crimsoned  with 
shame. 

Bettie  looked  up. 

"Why,  didn't  you  know?  Ayres  is  in  Ber- 
muda." 

"  No,  he  isn't,  mother,"  said  Midge,  quickly.  "  It 
is  as  good  a  time  to  tell  you  now  as  any  other. 
Ayres  never  went  to  Bermuda  at  all.  He  is  right 
here  in  New  York.  He  hasn't  been  away  for  even 
a  day.  We  didn't  intend  to  let  you  know  just  yet, 
and  Mr.  Patrick  has  been  cautioned  several  thou- 
sand times  not  to  give  him  away,  yet  he  managed 
to  do  it  the  first  time  I  have  invited  him  into  the 
house  since  the  last  time  he  offended  me ! " 

Here  Midge  delivered  a  look  at  the  unhappy 
youth  which  reduced  him  almost  to  tears,  it  was 
so  distinct  a  threat  of  further  punishment. 

"Oh,  I — I  say!  I'm  so  sorry,  Midge!  I  clean 
forgot  everything  about  it.  Please  forgive  me !  " 

Midge  narrowed  her  eyes  at  him,  which,  in  sign 
language,  meant  "Forgive  you?  Never!" 

"  Midget,"  said  her  father,  "  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean,"  said  the  girl,  "  that  Ayres  has  done 
the  most  splendid  thing  you  ever  heard  of.  He 
took  another  name  even — he  was  so  afraid  to  use 
the  pull  of  his  own,  and  went  down  to  the  office  of 
The  Blazed  Trail  and  hired  out  as  a  reporter — 
just  a  common  space  writer  at  no  fixed  price  or 
guarantee.  He  could  only  hope  to  be  paid  for 
what  they  took.  And  inside  of  three  months  they 
want  to  make  a  contract  with  him.  Alan  says 
that's  going  some,  but  it  must  be  pure  luck,  for  he 
says  the  editors  of  The  Biased  Trail  have  no  heart 
and  no  brains  and  no  ability.  He  says  they  just 
hold  their  jobs  out  of  the  old  man's  sheer  good  na- 
ture. And  he  ought  to  know.  He's  been  with  them 
for  three  years." 


80  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

A  small  portion  of  Alan's  reportorial  nerve  re- 
turned to  him,  as  he  heard  Midge  thus  quote  his 
opinions  as  criterion®  to  go  by,  but  Midge  was 
not  looking  at  him.  The  quiet  pleasure  in  her 
father's  face  and  the  open  delight  in  Bettie's  were 
what  gave  her  the  most  joy,  for  the  greatest 
charm  of  this  family  was  its  frank  devotion  to 
each  other. 

"  Tell  us  about  it,  Alan,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 

The  young  man  straightened  up  and  shot  a 
glance  of  triumph  at  Midge,  but  it  fell  harmless 
from  that  young  woman's  armour  of  sisterly  in- 
terest in  her  brother.  Midge  was  thinking  only  of 
Ayres,  and  Alan  saw  it  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"There  isn't  very  much  to  tell,  sir,"  he  said, 
"  except  that  Ayres  made  good  from  the  start.  He 
never  seemed  to  be  a  tenderfoot.  To  begin  with, 
he  looked  the  part.  I  found  him  an  old  sweater 
and  a  soft  hat,  and  introduced  him  to  the  city 
editor,  who  happened  that  day  to  be  in  a  meaner 
temper  than  usual.  He  said  in  his  genial  and  ur- 
bane way,  which  so  endears  him  to  his  subordi- 
nates, *  Ordinarily  I  would  have  no  use  for  you  or 
the  slush  you  will  probably  write.  But  Slawson 
is  drunk,  Hayman  is  shamming  sick,  and  Carpen- 
ter has  just  had  a  convenient  death  in  his  family, 
so  I'm  short-handed.  Cover  that  fire  in  the  hold 
of  the  Auranatic.  Men,  women  and  children  are 
being  burned  to  death  while  you  are  standing 
there,  wasting  time  in  talk.' " 

"  Good  heavens,  what  a  brute ! "  cried  Midge. 

"Worse  than  that!"  said  Alan.  "Well,  Ayres 
turned  and  shot  out  of  that  office  without  a  back 
look.  Personally  I  don't  believe  he  went  near  the 
fire,  but  he  turned  in  an  account  of  it  that  made 
the  old  man  telegraph  from  California  to  know 
who  wrote  it." 

"  We  read  it ! "  cried  Bettie.     "  I  remember  it 


ANGELA   FINDS   A   FRIEND  81 

perfectly.  I  nearly  cried  my  eyes  out  over  the 
rescue  of  that  mother  and  baby ! " 

Alan  grinned  and  looked  down  at  his  plate. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at?  "  demanded  Midge. 

"Fake!"  said  Alan,  succinctly.  "There  was 
nobody  in  the  hold  but  two  Chinamen  and  three 
niggers.  Nobody  was  killed,  but  after  Ayres  wrote 
what  he  thought  ought  to  have  happened,  I'll  bet 
some  six  thousand  reporters  in  Greater  New  York 
were  jumped  on  by  their  chiefs  because  they  did 
not  possess  our  young  friend's  virile  imagination. 
We  got  out  more  extras  on  Ayres'  fake  than  we  had 
done  in  six  months  on  real  facts." 

"  That  sounds  as  if  he  were  cut  out  for  a  news- 
paper man,"  observed  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  drily. 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,"  said  Alan.  "  And  by 
the  way,  that  reminds  me.  I  think  he  signed  a 
contract  with  them  last  night,  for  the  old  man  was 
to  leave  for  Florida  this  morning.  If  he  did, 
Ayres  might  show  up  here  to-day,  because  he  has 
always  told  me  he'd  come  home  when  he  had  made 
good." 

"  I  had  no  idea  the  lad  took  what  I  said  so  much 
to  heart,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  "but  I  never  was 
more  glad  of  anything  than  that  he  did." 

"  There  he  is  now ! "  cried  Bettie,  jumping  up 
from  the  table  and  running  out  of  the  room.  "  I 
hear  his  voice." 

A  moment  later  mother  and  son  appeared  in  the 
door  of  the  dining-room,  Bettie's  flushed  and  smil- 
ing face  making  her  look  more  like  the  tall  young 
man's  sister  than  his  mother. 

Everybody  greeted  them  rapturously. 

"Contract  signed,  old  man?"  asked  Alan. 

"  Signed,  sealed,  and  delivered ! "  answered 
Ayres,  "  and  even  yet  they  don't  know  who  I  am. 
My  name  is  John  Glendenning,  ladies  and  gentle- 
man and  Alan  Patrick !  " 


82  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

V 

Midge  laughed  so  heartily  and  so  long  at  this 
somewhat  antiquated  form  of  wit,  that  Alan's  very 
ears  grew  red,  but  by  heroic  stoicism,  he  forebore 
to  make  any  comment  or  retort,  much  to  Midget's 
secret  regret. 

"Well,  son,  Alan  has  told  us — with  Midget's 
help — something  of  your  success,  and  I  want  to 
say,  my  son,  that  I  am  proud  of  you,"  said  Mr. 
Arbuthnot.  Ayres  flushed  and  the  eyes  of  father 
and  son  met  in  a  look  which  spoke  volumes  of  con- 
fidence and  mutual  respect. 

"Here  are  some  letters  for  you,  Alan,"  said 
Ayres.  "  I  hope  most  of  them  are  bills,  but  this 
registered  one  I  signed  for  and  brought  along, 
thinking  maybe  She  wouldn't  want  to  wait  any 
longer  than  necessary." 

Ayres  grinned  happily  when  he  saw  his  sister's 
eyes  glue  themselves  jealously  to  the  unmistakably 
woman's  handwriting  on  the  envelope. 

Alan  scrutinised  the  postmark  and  writing,  and 
then  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pleasure. 

"  I  say !  I  know  who  this  is  from ! "  he  cried. 
"Midge,  you  remember  the  time  I  told  you  about 
the  runaway  nun  I  found  on  the  train  coming  up 
from  Baltimore " 

"  The  time  you  were  disguised  as  a  clergyman?  " 
interrupted  Bettie.  "  Yes,  yes !  I  was  always  so 
interested  to  know  more  of  her.  If  that's  from  her, 
open  it  and  let's  see  what  she  says.  She  may  be 
in  trouble  and  need  help." 

"  If  she  does,  I  wonder  if  you  would  catch  the 
afternoon  train,  Bettie  dear,"  said  Midge,  imper- 
tinently. 

Alan,  thus  permitted,  tore  open  the  envelope  of 
Angela's  letter  and  read  a  few  lines. 

"  Well,  here  is  a  rum  go !  "  he  exclaimed.    "  You 


ANGELA   FINDS  A  FRIEND  83 

know  I  lent  her  some  money  and  she  sent  it  back 
to  me  in  the  oddest  way.  Instead  of  a  cheque  or 
money  order,  she  sent  the  exact  amount  in  bills 
and  silver  by  express.  I  wrote  back  to  her  again 
offering  my  services,  for  in  her  letter  she  said  she 
was  in  deep  trouble  and  wanted  me  to  send  her  a 
New  York  telephone  directory,  which  I  did.  That 
was  about  three  months  ago.  Now  she  writes  that 
it  is  part  of  her  plan  to  come  to  New  York  to  ob- 
tain work,  and  she  wants  to  know  if  I  could  get 
her  on  to  some  newspaper,  as  what  she  has  to  do 
requires  the  assistance  of  that  line  of  work.  She 
adds  that  she  has  plenty  of  money,  so  that  the  sub- 
ject of  pay  need  not  be  discussed!  What  do  you 
think  of  that? " 

"Of  course,  she  must  come,  the  poor  child! 
cried  Bettie.    "  Write  her  to  come  directly  to  us, 
Alan,  and  perhaps  we  could  help  her." 

"You  are  a  dear,  Mrs.  Arbuthnot,"  said  Alan, 
"but  this  girl  is  an  uncommon  character,  and  I 
believe  she  is  the  key  to  some  big  secret.  For  that 
reason,  I  suspect  that  she  will  not  want  to  come 
out  in  the  open.  Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  have  told 
you  even  this.  I  have  a  queer  feeling  about  her — 
a  sort  of  hunch  that  she  is  a  mystery.  I  will  write 
her  of  course,  and  deliver  your  sweet  invitation, 
but  I  don't  believe  she  will  come.  Wait.  Here's 
a  P.  S.  '  Please  don't  mention  this  to  a  soul,  as  I 
have  the  best  and  most  important  reasons  for  keep- 
ing my  intentions  and  whereabouts  a  secret.  I 
only  tell  you,  because  I  felt  from  the  first  that  you 
were  a  man  to  be  trusted,  an<l  that  you  would 
never  tell  what  you  were  asked  not  to ! '  Oh !  my 
Lord ! "  groaned  Alan  Patrick. 

"  If  ever  I  get  into  trouble,  my  dear  young 
friend,"  said  Midge,  sarcastically,  "  I  will  cer- 


84  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

tainly  come  to  you.  As  a  means  of  dispensing  in- 
formation which  ought  to  be  withheld,  you  would 
be  a  howling  success." 

"  At  the  office  they  call  him  '  the  human  sieve,' " 
said  Ayres,  full  of  enjoyment  at  Alan's  misery. 
"  To  think  of  her  trusting  you  with  a  secret.  She 
must  be  of  a  confiding  temperament." 

"  Or  else  utterly  without  friends,  the  poor  child," 
said  Bettie,  tenderly.  "Well,  Alan,  you  can  at 
least  trust  in  our  discretion.  We  will  not  men- 
tion it." 

"What  is  her  name?"  said  Ayres. 

"  Her  name  is  Angela,"  answered  Alan. 

"Angela  what?" 

"  WTell,  she  signs  her  letters  Angela  Cravanath. 
But  I  feel  sure  that  is  not  her  real  name,"  said 
Alan. 

Mr.  Arbuthnot  looked  up. 

"  Cravanath?"  he  said,  quickly.  "  That  is  rather 
an  unusual  name.  I  used  to  know  a  man  by  that 
name — Christopher  Cravanath.  He  had  made  a 
wonderful  invention,  which  he  was  anxious  to 
show  me,  and  which,  if  it  was  all  he  claimed  for 
it — would  have  revolutionised  my  business.  In 
fact,  children,  if  this  Christopher  Cravanath's  in- 
vention had  materialised,  and  I  could  have  carried 
out  my  plans  by  its  means,  I  would  have  been  the 
money  king,  instead  of  merely  being  one  of  a  num- 
ber of  rich  men." 

"  What  became  of  him,  dear?  "  asked  Bettie. 

"  I  never  knew.  He  simply  never  came  back 
to  proye  his  claims.  Yet  somehow,  I  have  always, 
believed  in  him.  I  have  thought  about  it  so  much 
— of  the  fine,  straightforward  manner  of  the  man 
— of  his  manly  appearance — he  was  even  distin- 
guished looking — and  the  elegant  English  he  used 
to  describe  his  discovery — everything  about  him, 


ANGELA    FINDS    A    FRIEND  85 

impressed  me.  Then  his  never  returning,  in  spite 
of  my  encouragement  to  him  to  give  me  more  to 
go  on,  and  the  strong  hint  I  gave  him  that  I  would 
be  glad  to  learn  more,  with  a  view  to  backing  him 
financially,  have  all  tended  to  make  me  suspect 
foul  play.  TJie  man  simply  disappeared." 

"  Was  his  invention  never  perfected?  "  asked 
Ayres. 

"  I  heard  rumours  of  it.  Stories  appeared  now 
and  then  that  a  certain  coterie  of  men  were  about 
to  produce  something  similar — or  which  might 
have  been  a  variation  of  Cravanath's  idea,  but 
they  never  came  to  anything." 

"  Perhaps  they  removed  him  and  tried  to  steal 
his  idea,  but  found  they  didn't  have  it  all,"  sug- 
gested Alan.  "  Things  like  that  are  always  pop- 
ping up  in  our  line  of  business." 

"  I  had  thought  of  that  also,"  answered  Mr.  Ar- 
buthnot.  "  It  is  not  impossible." 

"  Were  these  men  capable  of  such  baseness?  " 
asked  Bettie.  "  It  seems  hardly  possible." 

"  Two  of  them  have  since  been  the  subject  of 
government  investigation  for  insurance  frauds, 
and,  unless  the  District  Attorney  withdraws  his 
prosecution,  will  probably  be  sent  to  jail." 

"  It  now  looks  as  if  he  meant  to  favour  them, 
doesn't  it?  "  asked  Ayres.  "  I  suppose  you  are  re- 
ferring to  Ralph  Frobisher,  aren't  you?" 

"  He  is  one  of  them,"  answered  his  father. 

"  I  wonder  if  this  Angela  of  Alan's  could  pos- 
sibly be  the  daughter  of  this  missing  man,  and 
if  she  wants  to  come  to  New  York  and  work  on  a 
newspaper  in  order  to  search  for  him ! "  cried 
Midget, 

"  Did  he  have  a  wife  and  child,  Squires?  "  asked 
Bettie,  with  her  usual  interest  in  u  case  which 
might  possibly  need  her  help. 


86  ANGELA'S  QUEST 

"  I  knew  nothing  about  him,  except  what  I  have 
told  you,"  answered  her  husband. 

"  Alan,  is  there  any  possibility  of  your  getting 
her  the  sort  of  position  on  your  paper  that  she 
wishes?"  asked  Bettie.  "If  your  theory,  Midge, 
should  be  true,  we  ought  to  help  her  all  we  can." 

"  Or  whether  it  is  true  or  not,  or  whether  she 
is  deserving  or  not,  or  whether  she  is  simply  a 
pretty  little  adventuress,  bent  on  marrying  our 
simple  Alan  for  his  money  or  not — in  fact,  be  she 
what  she  may  or  who  she  may,  if  Bettie  can  pos- 
sibly help  her,  do  indulge  her!  "  said  Midge.  "  Get 
her  on  the  paper,  Alan,  whether  you  can  or  not. 
Simply  do  it ! " 

"  All  right,"  said  Alan,  meekly.  "  I  think  I  can 
manage  it." 

Little  more  was  said  on  the  subject  for  Alan 
and  Midge  were  absorbed  in  their  own  affairs,  but 
Ayres  found  his  mind  reverting  over  and  over 
again  to  the  strange  disappearance  of  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Cravanath  and  the  curious  friendship 
Alan  Patrick  formed  with  a  young  and  beautiful 
girl  of  the  same  name,  who  claimed  to  have  been 
held  against  her  will  in  some  institution. 

The  more  he  thought  of  it,  the  more  a  strange 
determination  grew  in  his  mind  to  see  if  he  could 
discover  any  trace  of  the  missing  man,  but  it  was 
some  days  later  before  he  found  an  opportunity 
to  go  more  fully  into  the  story  with  his  father  and 
secure  what  little  data  Mr.  Arbuthnot  was  in  pos- 
session of. 

The  very  meagreness,  when  all  was  told,  whet- 
ted the  young  man's  interest  and  set  him  to  work. 
He  felt  that  he  was  on  the  trail  of  a  great  mystery. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  WRECKED  TRAIN 

When  Angela  received  the  telephone  directory 
from  Alan  Patrick,  it  was  a  comparatively  easy 
task  to  find  the  names  she  wanted,  for  her  moth- 
er's eagerness  to  help  her  was  so  near  to  tragedy 
that  the  girl's  sharp  wits  were  additionally  sharp- 
ened by  the  necessity  of  understanding  more  than 
could  be  conveyed  by  the  invalid's  eyes. 

She  discovered  the  name  of  one  man  the  first 
time  she  made  the  attempt.  She  ran  over  the  al- 
phabet until  she  came  to  F  and  from  that  she  read 
each  name  aloud  until  she  came  to  Frobisher. 

It  was  easy  to  discover  that  the  man  whom  her 
mother  believed  to  be  responsible  for  all  the  sor- 
row which  had  befallen  her  was  Ralph  Frobisher, 
the  president  of  the  Central  National  Hemp  Com- 
pany. But  the  next  step  was  not  so  easy.  With- 
out a  paper  to  help  her  nor  a  letter  to  furnish  a 
clue,  it  seemed  well  nigh  impossible  to  discover 
what  relation  Angela's  father  had  borne  to  Fro- 
bisher, for  her  mother  repeatedly  denied  that  her 
husband  had  been  in  business  with  him,  nor  in 
any  way  associated  with  him,  yet  she  stoutly  main- 
tained that  some  business  transaction  between 
them  had  led  to  her  husband's  disappearance  and 
Angela's  kidnapping. 

Angela  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Central  National 
Hemp  Company,  and  sent  it  from  Georgetown  us- 
ing a  fictitious  name  and  address,  asking  prices 
on  Manila  rope.  She  did  not  really  expect  an  an- 
swer, yet  she  received  one  on  the  firm's  letter  head, 
but  to  her  bitter  disappointment,  her  mother  failed 

87 


88  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

to  recognise  the  name  of  any  officer  of  the  com- 
pany as  the  one  who  had  done  the  actual  kidnap- 
ping. 

This  worried  her  more  than  it  appeared  to  dis- 
turb her  mother.  The  invalid's  interest  seemed  to 
centre  around  Frobisher.  She  evidently  believed 
the  other  man  to  be  simply  a  tool. 

Days  rolled  into  weeks  and  weeks  into  months, 
yet  nothing  further  developed.  Angela  subscribed 
to  all  the  important  New  York  papers  and  read 
them  assiduously.  Sometimes  she  saw  a  brief  men- 
tion of  the  Central  National  Hemp  Company,  but 
nothing  appeared  which  could  in  any  way  help 
her. 

The  only  thing  which  gave  her  any  courage  was 
that  her  mother  seemed  improving.  She  could 
move  the  muscles  in  her  face  and  turn  her  head 
slightly.  Her  fingers  also  became  flexible  and  to 
the  joy  of  all  of  them,  it  seemed  that  her  complete 
recovery  was  not  impossible. 

Angela  wished  to  consult  some  competent  physi- 
cian, but  the  moment  it  was  suggested,  it  brought 
on  such  violent  spasms  of  nervous  terror,  that  for 
days  her  mother  showed  the  effects  of  them. 

For  some  time  the  project  of  going  to  New  York 
to  prosecute  the  search  in  person  had  been  in 
Angela's  mind,  before  she  dared  mention  it  to  her 
mother. 

At  first  her  own  fears  of  being  recognised  and 
taken  back  to  St.  Ursula's  was  so  great  that  she 
dismissed  the  intruding  thought  with  as  much 
terror  as  her  mother  could  have  shown. 

Then  she  grew  braver.  The  longer  she  remained 
free,  the  more  she  dared  go  about,  heavily  veiled 
but  unmolested.  The  more  she  read  the  never 
papers,  the  more  she  recovered  her  mental  bal- 
ance. 


Angela  and  her  mother  met  every  day. 


THE   WRECKED    TRAIN  89 

Finally  she  received  a  letter  from  Soeur  Marthe, 
telling  of  the  great  consternation  her  escape  cre- 
ated at  first,  but  declaring  that  the  secret  of  it 
,was  not  even  confided  to  all  of  the  sisters. 

Onlj  the  most  trustworthy  were  told,  and  al- 
though a  rigid  search  was  instituted,  it  was  done 
secretly  and  when  it  failed,  the  news  was  given 
out  within  the  Convent  and  Home  walls  that  An- 
gela had  been  transferred  to  another  convent  and 
was  undergoing  her  novitiate. 

But  the  news  which  caused  Angela's  heart  to 
leap  for  joy  was  that  Soeur  Marthe  added : 

"  This  report  has  not  yet  been  communicated  to 
those  in  power,  but  just  before  the  time  for  his 
next  visit,  word  will  be  sent  to  him.  that  this  has 
been  done.  This  will  prevent  his  annual  visit,  set 
their  minds  at  rest  and  divert  suspicion  from  what- 
ever plans  you  may  care  to  make,  for  they  will 
believe  you  for  ever  secure  behind  convent  walls." 

With  this  letter  in  her  hands  Angela  broached 
the  subject  of  her  going  to  New  York  to  her 
mother,  and  to  her  surprise,  after  the  first  shock, 
the  invalid  consented,  albeit  with  many  agonised 
tears,  shed  mostly  during  the  night,  as  is  the  way 
of  mothers  the  world  over. 

It  was  even  decided  to  use  Angela's  real  name 
of  Cravanath,  although  everywhere  in  the  small 
world  in  which  they  moved  they  were  supposed  to 
be  the  Yorkes,  because  the  Yorkes  once  owned  the 
place  and  Mammy  had  always  disguised  her  mis- 
tress under  that  name. 

This  fact  had  evidently  been  known  to  Angela's 
kidnappers,  for  even  Soeur  Marthe  had  thought 
that  Yorke  was  Angela's  correct  name. 

Then  came  the  idea  of  appealing  to  Alan  Pat- 
rick— more  as  a  wild  chance  which  might  clarify 
her  somewhat  chaotic  ideas,  than  with  the  hope 


90  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

that  anything  tangible  would  come  of  it,  so  that 
when  his  absurdly  characteristic  reply  came,  re- 
peating Mrs.  Arbuthnot's  invitation  and  offering 
his  own  services  to  get  her  work  taken,  "if  not  in 
the  scurrilous  sheet  which  my  admirable  work 
adorns,  then  in  some  journal  more  richly  deserv- 
ing the  name  of  newspaper,"  Angela's  mind  was 
made  up. 

As  Alan  had  prophesied,  Angela  refused  Mrs. 
Arbuthnot's  offer  of  hospitality,  but  so  gracefully 
was  this  refusal  worded  that  both  Midge  and  Bet- 
tie  declared  her  to  be  well  born  from  the  wording 
of  her  letter  alone.  Not  in  vain  had  Soeur  Marthe 
poured  all  the  wealth  of  her  own  culture  and  sa- 
voir  faire  into  the  ardent  and  receptive  mind  of 
her  young  protegee,  and  hardly  a  day  passed  in 
which  Angela  did  not  have  cause  to  bless  the  love 
of  Soeur  Marthe  which  had  so  richly  endowed  her, 
for  when  the  necessity  arose,  Angela  invariably 
found  herself  armed  and  prepared  to  meet  it. 

Through  letters  Alan  found  a  boarding  house 
where  the  girl  would  be  comfortable.  He  prom- 
ised to  meet  her  at  the  train  and  see  her  installed 
and  be  her  guide  for  as  long  as  she  needed  his 
services. 

Angela  read  all  his  answering  letters  to  her 
mother  and  Mammy  and  related  over  and  over  how 
clever  and  kind  he  had  proved  himself  at  their 
first  meeting,  thus  gaining  the  confidence  of  these 
two  in  a  young  man  they  had  never  seen,  but  whom 
they  were  inclined  to  trust  with  the  strange  pro- 
tective intuition  of  women. 

Finally  the  day  of  parting  came  and  Angela  tore 
herself  away. 

The  anguish  of  parting  was  lessened  by  Angela's 
promise  to  come  home  every  two  weeks.  And  her 
mother  was  comforted  by  a  series  of  telegrams,  all 


THE   WRECKED    TRAIN  91 

carefully  written  out,  ready  for  sending,  by  which 
she  could  be  recalled,  and  in  which  Angela  covered 
every  emergency  she  could  think  of.  All  her 
mother  had  to  do  was  to  indicate  to  Mammy  which 
one  to  give  to  old  Lucas  to  send. 

Fortunately  the  subject  of  money  did  not  trouble 
them.  Had  they  been  destitute,  in  all  probability 
nothing  would  ever  have  been  accomplished,  for 
even  had  these  two  old  negroes  succeeded  in  keep- 
ing their  mistress  alive,  Angela  could  hardly  have 
hoped  to  earn  enough,  besides  a  meagre  living  for 
herself,  ever  to  conquer  the  apparently  insuperable 
obstacles  in  her  path. 

But  the  liberal  provision  of  conscience  money 
simplified  everything. 

Mammy  had  never  spent  a  third  of  the  sums 
which  came  so  regularly,  and  no  bank  had  a 
chance  to  fail  and  sweep  their  little  fortune  away, 
for  wherever  the  old  black  woman  went,  by  day  or 
night,  the  entire  sum  of  money,  mysteriously  con- 
cealed, went  with  her,  and  anyone  to  get  it,  would 
have  had  to  take  with  it  her  life. 

Thus  Angela  started  with  all  the  money  she 
needed,  with  Mammy's  assurance  that  more  would 
be  sent  at  a  moment's  notice. 

Again  the  girl  was  a  passenger  in  "old  Brer 
Tawmkins'  hack  "  from  Georgetown  to  Washing- 
ton, where  Angela  took  the  train  for  New  York. 

Hardly  was  she  seated  in  the  chair  car  when 
she  was  alarmed  by  the  curious  actions  of  an  old 
man  in  the  chair  in  front  of  her. 

Even  wtile  she  was  seating  herself,  he  stared 
at  her  with  what  would  have  been  rudeness  had 
not  his  emotion  been  so  evident.  Tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks  which  he  furtively  wiped  away. 
Then  seeing  that  the  girl  was  rendered  uneasy 
by  his  scrutiny,  he  made  an  evident  effort  not  to 


92  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

look  at  her.  But  this  seemed  to  be  beyond  his 
power,  for  his  glance  came  back,  timidly  and  so 
appealingly  that  Angela's  fear  finally  passed  away 
and  she  found  herself  wondering  what  could  be 
the  reason  for  his  evident  interest  in  her. 

He  was  such  an  elderly  man  and  his  manner 
was  so  respectful  that  the  girl  dreaded  no  im- 
pertinence from  him,  but  her  fear  arose  from  the 
fact  that  she  always  felt  like  a  hunted  animal 
whenever  she  appeared  in  daylight,  unless  her  face 
were  concealed  by  a  thick  veil. 

But  on  the  train,  she  early  decided  to  shake  off 
this  unnerving  terror,  so  she  raised  her  veil  and 
tried  to  reassure  herself  that  she  was  now  a  grown 
woman  and  could  not  be  stolen  against  her  will, 
nor  made  way  with. 

Then  came  this  curious  encounter  with  her  fel- 
low passenger,  but  she  soon  got  her  nerves  under 
control  and  determined  to  face  this  thing — what- 
ever it  was-— while  she  was  protected  by  daylight, 
plenty  of  money  in  her  pocket  and  a  car  full  of 
sane  and  healthy-minded  people,  whose  mere  pres- 
ence was  a  safeguard. 

After  some  time  had  passed  the  old  man  opened 
his  satchel  and  took  out  a  photograph  case.  He 
sat  studying  its  contents  for  a  few  minutes,  wTith 
tears  running  unchecked  down  his  cheeks.  Sud- 
denly he  turned  and  looked  again  at  Angela.  Her 
sympathy  was  evident  in  her  face,  for  he  held  the 
case  out  to  her  and  she  reached  out  and  took  it. 

An  exclamation — almost  a  cry — broke  from  her 
lips,  for  it  was  a  photograph  of  Angela  herself, 
or  appeared  to  be. 

Yet  this  was  manifestly  impossible,  as  Angela 
had  never  been  photographed,  nor  had  she  ever 
possessed  the  sort  of  gown  the  girl  in  the  Dicture 
wore. 


The  old  man  nodded  his  head. 

"  You'll  have  to  excuse  me  for  staring  at  you 
the  way  I've  done,  but  you  see  for  yourself  how 
much  you  look  like  her,  and  when  I  saw  you,  I 
just  broke  down." 

"  Oh,"  said  Angela,  in  her  quiet  voice,  "  is 
she '' 

"  Dead !  "  said  the  old  man. 

No  further  word  was  spoken  for  several  mo- 
ments. The  train  rushed  on,  the  porter  and  con- 
ductor passed  down  the  aisle,  the  passengers  read 
or  talked  or  watched  the  flying  spenery,  and  An- 
gela and  the  old  man  drew  near  each  other  through 
the  medium  of  a  dead  girl's  face. 

"  She  was  my  daughter — the  only  living  thing 
in  the  world  I  had  left.  I  have  one  brother  in 
New  York  that  I  haven't  seen  for  ten  years,  and 
he's  so  rich  and  grand  he  doesn't  care  much  for 
the  likes  of  me,  though  he  was  fond  enough  of  me 
when  we  were  boys  together  on  the  old  sod.  But 
my  girl  was  all  I  wanted.  I  named  her  Angelica, 
she  was  so  pretty.  You  see  for  yourself  how 
pretty  she  was.  And  you're  like  her.  You're 
exactly  like  her,  except  that  you're  a  bit  taller. 
What  might  your  name  be — your  given  name,  I 
mean? " 

"  My  name  is  Angela,"  said  the  girl. 

"  I'm  not  surprised,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I 
wouldn't  have  been  surprised  if  you'd  said  it  was 
Angelica,  for  two  such  angel  faces  must  have  been 
named  alike.  I  loved  her !  And  now  she's  dead !  " 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  said  Angela,  gently. 

She  reached  out  and  touched  the  old  man's 
sleeve.  He  was  weeping  with  the  tired  hopeless 
tears  of  age,  and  Angela's  own  face  quivered  to 
see  the  painful  contortions  of  his. 

"  It  was  awful,  the  way  she  died,"  went  on  the 


94  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

old  man.  "  I  had  her  at  boarding  school  in  Wash- 
ington. She  was  just  ready  to  quit — graduate, 
you  know,  this  spring.  And  her  uncle  had  writ- 
ten for  me  to  bring  her  on  to  New  York  and  he'd 
take  her  to  Europe.  It  was  the  first  thing  he'd 
ever  done  for  her  and  she  was  so  happy.  Here  are 
all  her  letters.  See  what  nice  handwriting.  And 
she  always  wrote  such  fine  letters.  Telling  all 
about  the  other  girls  and  what  she  did  and  keep- 
ing her  old  father  right  along  with  her." 

Angela  nodded,  and  the  old  man  continued. 

"  Then  I  got  word  that  scarlet  fever  had  broken 
out  in  the  school  and  that  two  of  the  girls  had  died 
and  everybody  was  so  scared,  they  weren't  going 
to  wait  for  graduation,  but  school  was  to  break 
up  right  away  and  all  the  girls  were  to  be  sent 
home,  because  the  fever  was  pretty  bad,  but  she 
was  all  right. 

"  The  minute  I  heard  that,  I  telegraphed  An- 
gelica to  pack  up  and  I'd  come  for  her  and  take 
her  right  on  to  New  York.  When  I  got  there,  she 
was  dead!  She  must  have  had  it  when  she 
wrote." 

"Oh,"  cried  Angela.  "How  dreadful  for  you! 
You  were  so  unprepared ! " 

The  old  man  nodded. 

"  It  like  to  have  killed  me !  I  went  there,  all 
smiles  and  happiness,  expecting  her  to  jump  into 
my  arms,  like  she  always  did  and  call  me  i  Dad- 
dy ! '  And  all  I  got  was  word  that  my  girl  was 
gone! 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  did  or  said.  I  just  turned 
and  walked  away.  Then  I  went  back  and  saw 
to  things,  but  I  can't  remember  much.  I  didn't 
even  write  to  my  brother.  I'm  going  to  see  him 
and  tell  him.  That's  what  I  am  going  to  New 
York  for  to-day.  I  don't  suppose  he'll  care  much, 


THE    WEECKED   TRAIN  95 

but  lie  is  all  I  have  in  the  world  now,  so  it'll  be 
kind  of  a  comfort  to  tell  him  and  talk  it  over  with 
him.  In  fact  I  haven't  anywhere  else  to  go  for 
awhile,  for  I  rented  the  farm  and  told  people  I 
didn't  know  just  when  I  would  be  back.  So  I 
just  have  to  go  and  see  Ralph.  My  brother's  name 
is  Ralph.  Ralph  Frobisher.  He's  president  of 
the  Central  National  Hemp  Company  of  New 
York.  He's  rich !  " 

When  Angela  leaned  back  suddenly  in  her  chair, 
the  old  man  looked  at  her  inquiringly.  But  he 
was  too  much  obsessed  by  his  own  troubles  to  no- 
tice the  pallor  of  her  face  and  her  evident  emotion. 
He  rambled  on,  but  Angela,  faint  from  excitement, 
scarcely  heard  him. 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  my  daughter.  I 
wonder  if  you'd  have  looked  so  much  alike  if  I 
could  have  seen  you  together.  Her  eyes  weren't 
quite  so  far  apart  as  yours  are,  and  she  had  more 
colour.  You  seem  kinda  pale.  Ain't  you  well?" 
His  eyes  searched  her  face  in  kindly  solicitude. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am.  very  well,"  murmured  Angela. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  I  hope  you  wron't  mind 
an  old  man's  interest  in  you,  because  you  look  so 
much  like  his  dead  girl,  and  I  hope — maybe — 
you'll  let  me  give  you  my  card  and  let  me — would 
you  mind  my  coming  to  see  you  after  we  get  to 
New  York?  I  won't  stay  long  or  bother  you  much. 
I  just  want  to  sit  and  look  at  you  more  than  any- 
thing else.  You're  awful  good  to  let  me  run  on 
this  way.  I  know  we're  strangers,  but  maybe  you 
won't  mind  if  I  don't  lose  sight  of  you,  just  be- 
cause— well,  you  know !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Angela.  "  And  you  may 
come  to  see  me.  I'd  be  glad  to  have  you/' 

The  old  man  smiled. 

"  You're  just  like  her — good  and  kind  and  not 


96 

a  bit  stuck  up.  Yet  you're  somebody.  I  can  tell 
that.  Would  you  mind  seeing  how  good  and  kind 
Angelica  was  to  her  old  father?  " 

"  How  do  you  mean?  "  asked  Angela. 

"  I  mean — reading  those  letters  in  your  lap. 
Not  all  of  them,  maybe.  But  a  few.  You  can 
pick  out  the  ones  you  care  about.  Just  put  them 
in  your  bag " 

"And  the  picture?"  asked  Angela.  "May  I 
keep  that  for  a  few  days?" 

"  Certainly  you  can ! "  answered  the  old  man, 
heartily.  "  It's  got  her  name  written  on  the  back 
in  her  own  handwriting.  Keep  them — letters  and 
picture — and  when  I  come  to  see  you,  I  can  get 
them." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Angela. 

She  opened  her  satchel  and  laid  the  package 
of  letters  and  photograph  inside.  The  old  man 
would  not  have  remarked  on  her  pallor  at  that 
moment,  for  the  thought  that  by  reading  the  dead 
girl's  letters,  not  because  her  father  wished  it,  but 
because  she  hoped  to  find  some  references  in  them 
to  the  private  affairs  of  Ralph  Frobisher,  had 
caused  her  cheeks  to  flame,  although  she  did  not 
falter  in  her  determination  to  use  every  help 
which  Fate  threw  in  her  way. 

"  Won't  you  give  me  your  card?  "  asked  the  old 
man. 

Angela  looked  up  quickly.  She  had  no  cards, 
and  for  the  first  time  realised  her  lack  in  this  re- 
spect. 

She  instantly  saw  how  odd  it  would  seem  if  she 
said  she  had  none,  so  she  opened  her  handbag 
and  searched  it. 

"  Where  have  I  put  them  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Frobisher.  "  Just 
irrite  it  down  for  me.  Here,  let  me  give  you  my 


THE    WRECKED    TRAIN  97 

notebook.  You  can  write  it  there  yourself.  Then 
I  can't  lose  it." 

Angela  took  the  notebook  and  pencil  he  handed 
her. 

She  was  in  the  act  of  writing  her  name  and  all 
the  other  passengers  were  equally  unprepared, 
when,  with  the  noise  of  rending,  tearing  and  roar- 
ing which  no  one  on  board  that  ill-fated  train 
could  ever  forget,  another  train  crashed  into  the 
chair  car,  instantly  killing  the  old  man  where,  he 
sat  and  injuring  Angela  so  that  for  hours  she  lay 
unconscious. 

News  of  the  wreck  was  telegraphed  all  over  the 
country,  and  within  an  hour  from  the  time  it  oc- 
curred, The  Biased  Trail,  the  yellowest  yellow 
journal  in  New  York,  had  started  its  own  relief 
train  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster  with  Ayres  Ar- 
buthnot  on  board. 


When  Angela  came  to  her  senses,  she  found  her- 
self lying  in  an  improvised  hospital,  with  cots 
around  her  on  all  sides,  filled  with  injured  and 
dying  passengers. 

Doctors  were  hurrying  from  one  patient  to  an- 
other and  groans  and  cries  mingled  with  the  sick- 
ening odour  of  ether  and  disinfectants. 

A  feeling  of  pain  and  deadly  nausea  overcame 
her  >  and  she  moaned  involuntarily. 

Instantly  a  figure  which  had  been  sitting  by 
her  side  stirred  and  bent  over  her. 

Angela  opened  her  eyes  and  encountered  a 
glance  which  seemed  vaguely  familiar. 

"  Are  you  better?  "  asked  a  man's  voice. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Angela,  but  to  her  surprise, 
she  could  only  whisper. 

"  You  are  rather  badly  shaken  up  and  bruised," 
the  voice  continued,  "  but  the  doctors  say  that  no 
bones  are  broken  and  that  you  will  be  all  right 
in  a  few  days.  Don't  try  to  talk.  I  took  the  lib- 
erty of  telephoning  to  your  uncle  and  he  answered 
that  he  would  come  for  vou  in  his  private  car  at 
once." 

"  My  uncle?  "  whispered  Angela. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Frobisher.  Your  uncle,  Ealph  Fro- 
bisher  of  New  York.  You  were  on  your  way  to 
visit  him, — don't  you  remember? — with  your 
father." 

Angela  turned  so  pale  that  the  man  hastily 
called  a  nurse. 

98 


IN   WHICH    FATE    LEAD    TKUMPS      99 

Angela  heard  murmured  reproaches  in  the 
nurse's  voice  and  the  man's  answer,  "  I  did  not  tell 
her!  What  do  you  take  me  for?  " 

"  There !  Take  a  sip  of  this,  and  you'll  feel  bet- 
ter ! "  said  the  nurse  holding  a  small  glass  to  An- 
gela's lips. 

The  girl  obediently  swallowed  the  stimulant  and 
the  colour  crept  back  to  her  lips  and  cheeks. 

She  opened  her  eyes  again  and  was  again  puz- 
zled by  something  familiar  in  the  appearance  of 
the  man's  face  which  once  more  was  within  her 
vision. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  she  whispered  impulsively. 

"  My  name  is  Ayres  Arbuthnot,"  answered  the 
young  man,  without  thinking.  Then  he  bit  his 
lip  in  sudden  remembrance,  and  added: 

"  Nothing  short  of  being  uncommon  knocked  out 
by  seeing  you  lying  here,  so  long  without  moving, 
could  have  made  me  forget  that  I  don't  tell  my 
real  name  when  I  am  at  work.  I  am  a  cub  re- 
porter on  the  New  York  Biased  Trail,  and  on  that 
paper  I  am  known  as  John  Glendenning." 

When  Angela  again  closed  her  eyes  at  this  piece 
of  news,  the  young  man  hastily  decided  to  hold 
his  tongue  and  say  nothing  more,  since  everything 
he  said  seemed  to  increase  her  weakness. 

She  lay  with  closed  eyes  thinking  quickly.  She 
felt  strangely  weak  and  unreal,  as  if  she  might 
faint  again,  so  she  wished  to  think  clearly  as  long 
as  she  had  the  power  to  think  at  all. 

She  instantly  saw  how  she  had  been  identified 
as  Angelica  Frobisher  by  the  letters  and  photo- 
graph in  her  bag,  and  she  saw  that  she  was  to 
have  a  marvellous  opportunity  of  meeting  the  man 
whom  her  mother  believed  %  to  be  responsible  for 
the  wrecking  of  their  lives. 

The  only  drawback  to  the  wonder  of  it  would 


100  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

be  the  testimony  of  the  old  man,  Ralph  Frobisher's 
brother,  which  would  immediately  convict  her,  if 
she  were  not  most  wary  in  her  speech. 

Still  she  felt  that  she  must  take  a  chance.  The 
nurse  had  gone  and  there  would  always  be  the 
supposition  that  young  Arbuthnot  had  misunder- 
stood her  or  that  weakness  had  confused  her, 
should  she  be  detected  in  her  attempt  to  mislead. 

She  opened  her  eyes  once  more  and  beckoned 
Ayres  nearer. 

"  Was  my  father  hurt?  " 

The  man  hesitated  and  drew  back. 

Without  realising  it,  Angela  reached  out  her 
hand  and  seized  his  coat,  drawing  him  nearer. 

"  Tell  me !  You  need  not  be  afraid !  Tell  me !  " 
she  murmured,  eagerly. 

Drawn  by  the  magnetism  of  her  eyes,  which 
wrung  the  trutk  from  him  against  his  will,  the 
young  man  answered — and  cursed  himself  for  an- 
swering— 

"Dead!" 

Without  a  word  Angela's  hand  loosened,  and 
dropped  lifelessly  on  the  coverlet  and  she  lapsed 
into  unconsciousness  so  nearly  resembling  death, 
that  then  and  there  the  boy  watching  her  knew 
himself  to  be  a  man,  with  a  man's  love  born  in  his 
heart  for  the  helpless  girl  before  him,  whose  beauty 
had  bewitched  him  at  sight. 


CHAPTER    XIII 
THE  TURN  OF  THE  DIE 

Upon  what  small  things  hang  destinies! 

If  Ralph  Frobisher  had  kept  his  word  to  the 
reporter  of  the  Blazed  Trail  who  telephoned  him 
from  the  scene  of  the  wreck,  and  if  he  had  actu- 
ally gone  in  his  private  car  to  fetch  his  injured 
niece  and  the  body  of  his  brother,  the  whole  story 
of  Angela's  life  would  have  been  different.  But 
just  because  there  was  an  important  meeting  of 
the  directors  of  the  Central  National  Hemp  Com- 
pany, Mr.  Frobisher  sent  his  private  secretary, 
Howard  Gallup,  in  the  car,  with  instructions  to 
use  his  own  judgment  and  discretion  in  every- 
thing pertaining  to  the  whole  situation. 

Young  Gallup  was  from  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished families  in  New  York,  who  had  fallen 
upon  evil  days  which  compelled  the  son  to  seek 
a  livelihood  regardless  of  his  own  taste  in  the 
matter.  So  that  when  he  had  the  opportunity  of 
becoming  Ralph  Frobisher's  private  secretary,  he 
accepted  it  as  a  stepping  stone  to  something  bet- 
ter and  daily  swallowed  his  disgust  and  distrust 
of  his  employer. 

The  regular  train  having  left  before  the  car 
could  be  got  ready,  after  the  telephone  message 
was  received,  young  Gallup  promptly  engaged  a 
special  engine,  which  was  given  the  right  of  way 
and  made  a  record  trip,  arriving  at  the  impro- 
vised hospital  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

He  was  not  allowed  to  see  Angela  at  first,  for 
101 


102  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

the  possiblity  of  an  opportunity  to  make  the  in- 
timate acquaintance  of  the  enemy  of  her  family 
had  so  unnerved  the  girl  that  she  had  gone  from 
one  faint  into  another,  until,  with  the  shock  and 
her  bruises,  the  nurse  feared  a  total  nervous  col- 
lapse. 

Howard  Gallup,  therefore,  was  forced  to  con- 
tent himself  with  the  doctor's  statement  that  it 
would  be  safe  to  move  Miss  Frobisher,  even  though 
she  remained  unconscious,  while  he  busied  himself 
with  attending  to  the  removal  of  the  old  man's 
body  in  its  cheap  casket  to  the  baggage  car  of  the 
special  train. 

As  Angela  was  lifted  onto  a  stretcher,  the  young 
man  was  strangely  thrilled  to  see  a  long  rope  of 
reddish  gold  hair  fall  from  her  pillow  and  trail 
on  the  ground.  Hastily  he  sprang  forward  and 
lifted  it  back  to  its  place  and  as  he  did  so  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  clear,  beautiful  profile, 
looking  like  marble  in  her  death-like  faint. 

He  caught  his  breath  and  leaned  forward  in  the 
dim  light  for  a  closer  scrutiny,  then  feeling  his 
emotion  observed,  he  turned  and  met  the  eyes  of 
Ayres  Arbuthnot  fixed  squarely  upon  him. 

They  recognised  each  other  with  the  veiled  hos- 
tility of  two  men  who  suddenly  realise  that  they 
are  interested  in  the  same  woman. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Glendenning — the  reporter  who 
wishes  to  make  copy  of  my  employer !  "  said  young 
Gallup. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Gallup,  who  refuses — for  the  present 
. — to  grant  me  the  privilege!  "  returned  Ayres, 
with  his  pleasant  grin,  showing  rows  of  very  white 
and  beautiful  teeth. 

"  For  the  present! "  repeated  Mr.  Gallup. 
"  You  think,  then,  that  I  shall  weaken?" 

"  From    what    I    know    of    you,    you'll    either 


THE   TURN   OF   THE    DIE  103 

weaken  and  help  me  or  you'll  quit  your  job!  I 
don't  know  which !  " 

"  The  latter  perhaps!  The  former  never!  "  an- 
swered Gallup. 

"  I  like  loyalty,"  remarked  Ay  res,  "  though  in 
this  case  it  does  interfere  with  what  I  am  making 
my  business." 

"  You  seem  to  have  the  happy  faculty  of  mak- 
ing many  things  your  business,"  returned  Gallup. 
"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  here?  " 

"  Sent  by  my  paper  to  accompany  the  first  relief 
train  out  from  New  York.  Got  a  great  story!  " 

"  You  will  not  mention  Miss  Frobisher,  I 
trust !  "  said  Gallup,  quickly. 

Arbuthnot's  face  flushed. 

"  It  is  unnecessary  for  you  to  interfere  with 
my  concerns !  "  he  said  hotly.  "  Even  a  reporter 
for  a  yellow  journal  may  possess  the  instincts  of 
a  gentleman  and  he  needn't  thereby  lose  his  job 
either,  if  he  doesn't  allow  aforesaid  instincts  to 
become  too  prominent," 

"  I  beg  your  pardon !  "  said  Gallup. 

Ay  res  pulled  a  photograph  from  his  pocket. 

"  This  is  what  identified  her  to  me.  You  see  it 
has  her  name  on  the  back.  I  found  it  in  her  bag 
and  took  it,  so  that  none  of  the  other  fellows  could 
get  it.  The  staff  artist  is  a  friend  of  mine  and 
an  awfully  decent  little  chap,  so  I  even  persuaded 
him  not  to  draw  her,  though  naturally,  he  was 
wild  to." 

"  Thank  you.  You  have  been  very  kind.  I  can 
assure  you  that  Mr.  Frobisher  will  greatly  appre- 
ciate your  delicacy." 

Ayres  looked  at  him  a  moment.    Then  he  said: 

"  Do  you  believe  that?  Have  you  been  that 
man's  private  secretary  for  six  months  and  don't 
know  that  he  would  be  delighted  if  we  had  used 


104  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

his  niece's  picture?  Don't  you  know  the  calibre 
of  Ralph  Frobisher,  let  alone  his  real  character, 
that  you  imbue  him  with  your  own  gentlemanli- 
ness?  " 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  answered  the  secre- 
tary. "  Then  please  let  me  thank  you !  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  will  even  do  that !  "  an- 
swered Ayres  Arbuthnot,  putting  his  hands  in  his 
coat  pockets  and  looking  Howard  Gallup  straight 
in  the  eyes.  "If  you  want  to  know  why  I  kept 
her  picture  out  of  the  paper  I  will  tell  you  it  was 
because  7  didn't  want  to  see  it  in!  " 

For  a  moment  the  two  stood  looking  directly  at 
each  other.  Then  Gallup  dropped  his  eyes  first. 
Ayres  Arbuthnot  possessed  the  stronger  will. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,"  said  Gallup.  "  I  see  the 
nurse  is  signalling  me.  We  are  about  to  start. 
As  we  have  the  right  of  way,  will  you  go  back  to 
town  with  us? '' 

"  Thanks,  no.  I  am  expecting  a  friend  of  mine 
down  on  the  local  which  gets  here  in  half  an  hour. 
Then  our  own  train  will  start  back." 

"But  your  story  of  the  wreck?"  asked  Gallup. 
" Shall  I  take  that  in  for  you?" 

Ayres  grinned  again. 

"  Thanks,  no,"  he  said.  "  I  telephoned  it  all  in 
the  moment  I  arrived.  Made  it  up  on  the  way 
down — all  but  the  names.  If  you  don't  mind, 
though,  I'd  like  to  go  aboard  and  ask  the  nurse 
if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  her  or  her  pa- 
tient. May  I?" 

"  By  all  means !  " 

Ayres  found  Angela  comfortably  settled  in  one 
of  the  most  luxurious  cars  he  had  ever  seen.  Its 
ornateness,  however,  was  only  accentuated  by  the 
delicate  loveliness  of  the  young  girl  who  lay  on  the 
bed  in  the  blue  satin  boudoir. 


THE    TURN    OF    THE    DIE  105 

His  father's  private  car  was  equally  luxurious, 
but  in  far  better  taste. 

"  Has  she  revived  at  all?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"  Just  as  we  were  laying  her  down,  she  opened 
her  eyes  and  asked  where  she  was,  and  when  I 
told  her  that  her  kind  uncle  had  sent  this  car 
with  orders  to  take  her  home  to  his  house,  she 
gave  a  sort  of  cry  and  fainted  again.  I  think  we 
ought  to  have  one  of  the  doctors  go  with  us.  I 
don't  like  these  successive  faints.  I  am  afraid  she 
may  be  injured  internally." 

"Til  get  Dr.  Cuyler.  He's  the  best  one!"  said 
Ayres. 

"  Oh,  but  he  can't  be  spared ! "  cried  the  nurse. 
"  He  is  the  one  in  charge  of  the  relief  train ! " 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  what  he  is  in 
charge  of!  If  Miss  Frobisher  needs  him,  he  will 
go  back  in  this  car!"  said  Ayres  in  a  low  tone, 
whose  sternness  caused  the  nurse  to  look  at  him 
in  astonishment. 

They  held  the  special  while  Dr.  Cuyler  was 
hastily  fetched,  very  weary  and  thoroughly  glad 
to  go. 

Then  after  extracting  a  reluctant  permission 
from  Howard  Gallup  to  be  allowed  to  call  and 
inquire  how  Angela  stood  the  journey,  Ayres 
swung  himself  off  the  train  after  it  had  begun 
to  move. 

He  waited  impatiently  for  the  local,  upon  which 
he  expected  Alan  Patrick,  for  the  arrival  of  this 
train  gave  The  Blazed  Trail  relief  train  the  right 
of  way  back  to  New  York. 

When  the  local  pulled  in,  Alan  fairly  fell  off 
the  car  in  his  haste  to  reach  Ayres. 

"  My  God !  Was  she  hurt  ?  You  never  men- 
tioned her  name  in  your  list ! "  he  shouted. 

"  Was  who  hurt?  "  asked  Ayres,  in  bewilderment, 


106  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

for  in  his  excitement  Alan  was  shaking  him  by  his 
coat  lapels. 

"  Angela !  Angela  Cravanath,  you  fool !  You 
knew  she  was  coming  on  this  train.  Midge  told 
you!  /  told  you!  You  knew  the  reason  I  wasn't 
at  the  office  this  morning  was  because  I  was  catch- 
ing up  so  I  could  meet  her  and  devote  the  rest  of 
the  afternoon  to  her.  Where  is  she?  " 

"  She  isn't  here.  She  wasn't  on  board.  I  saw 
everyone,"  rejoined  Ayres,  remembering  every- 
thing Alan  told  him,  now  that  it  was  recalled  to 
his  mind. 

"  Not  on  board !  "  repeated  Alan.  "  Why,  she 
must  have  been !  She  telegraphed  me !  Was  there 
no  one  answering  to  her  description — reddish  gold 
hair,  pretty  and  young?  " 

"  The  only  one  in  the  least  like  that  was  Miss 
Frobisher, — the  niece  of  that  hound  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher,  whose  trail  I  am  on.  Her  father  was  in- 
stantly killed  and  she  was  badly  shaken  up.  Fro- 
bisher had  the  decency  to  send  his  car  for  the  girl 
and  his  brother's  body,  and  it's  just  gone.  She 
was  rather  like  that — and  by  the  way — now  that 
you  mention  it,  her  name  is  Angelica — Angelica 
Frobisher!  " 

"  Was  she  very  pretty?  "  asked  Alan,  looking 
puzzled. 

"  Wait !  I've  got  her  picture.  I  kept  it  out  of 
the  paper,  because  the  moment  I  looked  at  her,  I 
knew  she  wouldn't  want  it  in.  Here  it  is ! " 

Alan  took  the  photograph  in  his  hand. 

"  That's  Angela  Cravanath ! "  he  said. 

"  It  can't  be,"  returned  Ayres.  "  Look,  here  is 
the  name  across  the  back — Angelica  Frobisher !  " 

Alan  shook  his  head. 

"I  always  said  there  was  some  mystery  about 
her.  That  is  the  girl  I  met  on  the  train.  There 


THE   TURN    OF    THE    DIE  107 

were  never  two  faces  so  much  alike.  It's  the  same 
girl!" 

"  Well,  whoever  she  is,  she  is  on  her  way  to 
Ralph  Frobisher's  house  as  his  niece  and  in  a  dead 
faint!" 

"  In  a  dead  faint ! "  repeated  Alan.  "  Then  I 
am  sure  of  it.  There'll  be  a  big  story  there  some 
day!" 

Ayres  seized  his  shoulder. 

"  There  will  never  be  a  story  in  our  paper  about 
that  girl — no  matter  who  she  is!  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 


CHAPTER    XIV 
THE  FIRST  CLUE 

What  his  father  had  said  of  the  mysterious  dis- 
appearance of  the  man  Cravanath  had  always 
teased  Ayres'  memory.  Then  came  his  meeting 
and  falling  in  love  with  a  beautiful  girl  whom  he 
had  at  first  supposed  to  be  the  niece  of  a  man  he 
heartily  despised,  but  whom  Alan  declared  to  be 
no  less  than  his  young  friend  Angela  Cravanath. 

Ayres  remembered  her  fainting  spells,  which 
had  occurred  with  such  alarming  frequency  after 
she  had  regained  consciousness  and  found  whither 
she  was  bound.  He  thought  of  these  things  and 
wondered. 

The  result  was  that  the  card  of  Mr.  John  Glen- 
denning  was  handed  in  to  the  President  of  The 
Globe  Harvesting  Company,  causing  that  gentle- 
man to  smile  broadly.  His  stenographer,  who  was 
taking  down  a  most  important  letter  in  French, 
was  surprised  to  be  dismissed  in  the  midst  of  it, 
in  Mr.  Arbuthnot's  usual  gentle  manner. 

When  Ayres  entered,  both  men  seemed  to  be 
intensely  amused  about  something. 

"Well,. son?"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 

"  You  must  excuse  me  for  interrupting  you  at 
this  hour,"  said  Ayres,  "but  my  time  is  not  my. 
own.  I  can't  see  you  at  home,  so " 

"  As  my  time  is  not  so  valuable "  suggested 

his  father,  smiling. 

Ayres  grinned. 

"  Just  so.  Well,  I'll  get  to  the  point  at  once. 
I  own  I  am  curious  to  know  what  became  of  that 

108 


THE    FIRST    CLUE  \  109 

man  Cravanath  you  mentioned  the  other  day. 
Would  you  mind  telling  me  just  what  his  inven- 
tion was  and  how  it  would  have  helped  your  busi- 
ness? " 

"  Certainly  not.  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know.  But 
why  are  you  interested?  Do  you  propose  to  find 
him?  " 

Ayres  leaned  back,  stretched  his  legs  and  thrust 
his  hands  into  his  trousers'  pockets. 

"  It  sounds  like  a  big  contract  for  a  cub  re- 
porter to  engage  in,  doesn't  it?  But  I  do  believe 
that  is  coming  to  be  my  purpose.  What  you  told 
us  interested  me,  and  when  I  went  down  on  that 
relief  train  Tuesday  I  saw  a  girl — she  was  the 
most  beautiful  creature  I  ever  saw  in  my  life, 
father! — who  was  identified  as  Angela  Frobisher, 
niece  of  that  scoundrel  Ralph  Frobisher.  Her 
father  was  killed  and  she  was  badly  hurt,  but  Fro- 
bisher sent  his  car  down  in  charge  of  that  nice 
young  chap,  Howard  Gallup,  and  took  the  body 
and  his  niece  to  his  home.  The  queer  part  of  it 
comes  in  that  Alan  says  Miss  Frobisher  is  his 
Angela  Cravanath ! " 

"  That  is  very  odd ! "  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 
"Very  odd  indeed.  What  did  the  girl  say?" 

"  She  was  unconscious  most  of  the  time  and 
said  almost  nothing.  I  sat  by  her  cot  for  three 
hours." 

His  father  looked  at  him  suddenly.  Ayres  met 
his  glance  without  flinching. 

"  I'm  going  to  marry  her  "  he  said,  quietly. 

His  father  moved  his  pencil  up  and  down  on 
his  desk  thoughtfully  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
looked  up  and  said: 

"  That  is  what  I  said  the  first  time  I  ever  saw 
your  dear  mother!  " 

"  Then  you  understand !  "  said  Ayres.    "  That 


11.0  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

girl  made  me  over — she  made  a  man  of  me  just 
lying  there  unconscious,  and  letting  me  love  her 
for  three  hours.  I  don't  believe  her  name  is  Fro- 
bisher  and  I  never  will  until  she  tells  me  so.  Here 
is  her  photograph.  Bead  the  name." 

Mr.  Arbuthnot  took  the  picture. 

"The  name  proves  nothing,  but  this  face  re- 
minds me  of  the  man,  Christopher  Cravanath.  It 
has  the  same  highbred,  patrician  look." 

"  The  girl  is  ten  times  more  beautiful  than  the 
photograph.  There  is  more  breadth  between  the 
eyes,  and  a  look  of  greater  purity.  My  Angela 
looks  her  name  even  more  than  this,  though  this 
face  is  beautiful." 

"  Rarely  beautiful  and  of  a  most  unusual  type," 
said  his  father.  "  God  bless  you,  son,  if  you  are 
really  in  love  and  I  don't  think  you  are  one  to 
be  mistaken  in  a  thing  like  love." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  am  either,  father.  I've  never 
felt  anything  like  this  before.  It's  just  about 
what  I  expected  it  to  be,  only  worse  and  more  of 
it !  And  then,  the  uncertainty ! " 

"  I  know,  dear  lad.  But  you  will  solve  the  rid- 
dle. You  have  met  and  talked  with  her  and  you 
know  where  she  is.  But — Frobisher!  I  can't 
figure  that  part  of  it  out," 

"Nor  I!  I  hope  she  will  prove  to  be  a  Crava- 
nath. Now  tell  me — what  of  that  man  and  his  in- 
vention?" 

"  Well,  let  me  see.  He  claimed  to  have  in- 
vented a  machine  for  taking  fibre  from  the  waste 
product  of  the  fruit-bearing  banana  trees.  Of 
course  I  need  not  remind  you  that  our  hemp 
comes  from  another  sort,  and  is  practically  the 
only  thing  now  on  the  market  for  the  manufacture 
of  rope.  In  our  business  we  could  have  used  his 
product  for  our  binder  twine,  and  the  samples  he 


THE    FIRST    CLUE  111 

showed  me  were  so  infinitely  superior  to  Manila 
hemp  that  on  his  first  visit  to  me  I  offered  him 
a  contract,  at  just  double  the  price  we  are  pay- 
ing, for  all  he  could  deliver  to  us." 

"Why  didn't  he  take  you  up?"  asked  Ayres. 

"  He  did,  apparently.  He  seemed  very  much 
pleased  by  my  offer  ,and  said  it  made  his  way 
quite  clear." 

"  Rather  sounds  to  me,"  said  Ayres,  "  as  if  he 
had  been  sent  to  you  to  get  your  opinion." 

"  That  might  have  been,"  responded  his  father, 
"  for  he  said  that  the  drawings  of  his  machines 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  Central  National  Hemp 
Company,  and  that  they  had  promised  to  organise 
a  company  to  manufacture  his  machines." 

"Was  Frobisher's  name  mentioned?"  asked 
Ayres  excitedly. 

"No.  He  mentioned  only  Marvin  Cray.  Cra- 
vanath  said  Cray  was  a  personal  friend  of  his. 
The  man  was  at  that  time  Frobisher's  private  sec- 
retary. But  later  Cray  denied  knowing  him." 

"  When  Cravanath  never  came  back,  did  you 
ever  mention  his  visit  and  business  to  Frobisher?  " 

"  Yes,  some  years  afterward,  I  happened  to  sit 
next  to  him  at  a  public  banquet  and  I  asked  him, 
whatever  had  become  of  the  man  and  his  inven- 
tion. He  denied  ever  having  heard  of  it  or  him, 
and  when  I  told  him  of  what  Cravanath  had  said, 
he  declared  he  must  have  been  simply  a  crazy  in- 
ventor, just  as  Cray  did.  I  therefore  dismissed 
the  subject  for  the  time  being  and  thought  pos- 
sibly he  had  been  only  a  dreamer  and  had  ro- 
manced." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Ayres,  positively. 
"  Did  you  notice  nothing  particular  in  Frobisher's 
manner  when  the  subject  came  up?  Did  he 
change  colour  or  refuse  to  meet  your  eyes?  Did 


112  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

his  hand  tremble?  Did  he  take  a  drink?  Did  he 
let  his  cigar  go  out?" 

Mr.  Arbuthnot  looked  at  his  son  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  I  don't  remember,"  he  replied.  "  I  was  not 
then  unduly  suspicious,  nor  was  I  looking  for  a 
criminal.  But  from  your  questions,  I  think  you 
have  the  making  of  a  detective  in  you." 

"  Or  a  reporter,"  answered  Ayres.  "  No,  I  am 
nothing  unusual  in  my  line,  but  the  job  of  a  rer 
porter  for  a  yellow  journal  sharpens  dull  wits. 
I  wish  I  had,  right  now,  your  chance  of  question- 
ing that  rascal.  I  believe  him  capable  of  any 
crime." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  agree  with  you,"  said  his 
father.  "  Ralph  Frobisher's  business  methods 
are  such  as  to  bring  dishonour  upon  all  the  rest 
of  us  who  must  naturally  associate  with  him  in 
the  course  of  our  business  dealings." 

"  I  would  like  to  be  the  one  to  run  him  to  earth," 
said  Ayres.  "  And  perhaps  I  shall.  I  know 
enough  on  him  now  to  ruin  him.  But  as  matters 
stand,  he  is  too  securely  entrenched  to  touch.  But 
I'll  get  him  yet!" 

"  One  thing  more,''  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot.  "  Mr. 
Cravanath  gave  me  the  idea  that  he  had  some 
means — that  is  to  say,  he  was  not  at  all  the  type 
of  the  usual  penniless  inventor,  who  is  afraid  of 
being  obliged  to  sell  his  invention  for  a  song.  He 
mentioned  owning  a  large  plantation  in  the  Island 
of  Estrellada  where  he  had  personally  conducted 
his  experiments.  The  name  of  it  was >" 

He  paused  and  frowned  thoughtfully.  Ayres 
sat  with  every  muscle  drawn  tense. 

"  I  can't  think !  "  murmured  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 
"  Possibly  it  will  come  to  me  later." 

Ayres  gave  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  But  didn't  you  write  anything  down?    Surely 


THE    FIRST    CLUE  113 

you  must  have  some  record  of  so  important  a  sug- 
gestion? Did  he  leave  you  no  sample?  What? 
Father!  Have  you  a  sample  of  that  fibre?  " 

The  elder  man's  slower  blood  began  to  take  fire 
from  his  son's  eager  interest.  He  rose  and  went 
to  his  vault.  Entering  it,  he  opened  a  steel  box 
with  a  key  which  he  took  from  his  own  key  ring. 
Hastily  searching  there,  he  presently  returned 
with  a  handful  of  long,  silky  white  fibre  to  which 
was  attached  a  small  parchment  tag,  and  on  that 
tag  some  words  were  written  in  red  ink.  Mr.  Ar- 
buthnot  read  them  aloud. 

"  From  the  plantation  of  Christopher  Crava- 
nath,  Hermosillo,  Estrellada." 

Ay  res  fairly  snatched  it  from  his  father,  with 
fingers  which  trembled  visibly,  and  hurried  to  the 
window. 

Presently  he  uttered  an  exclamation: 

"  Father !  "  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  You  read  the 
name  wrong.  It  says  '  From  the  plantation  of 
Angela  Cravanath!'  The  plantation  belongs  to 
his  daughter." 

"  It  might  have  meant  his  wife,"  suggested  his 
father.  "  Possibly  their  names  were  the  same." 

"  Possibly.  But  that  is  not  the  point.  What 
interests  me  is  that  here  is  an  authentic  record  of 
the  name  signed  to  those  letters  of  Alan's — An- 
gela Cravanath.  I  believe  on  my  soul  that  that 
girl  is  hunting  her  father  and  that  she  is  no  more 
Angelica  Frobisher  than  I  am !  " 

Ayres  came  forward  with  a  rush. 

"  Good-bye,  father !  I've  got  what  I  wanted  and 
more!  Sorry  to  have  taken  so  much  of  your 
time." 

As  the  door  slammed,  Mr.  Arbuthnot  took  off 
his  glasses  and  wiped  them. 

Then  he  smiled. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE  HOUSE  OF  DISCORD 

When  Angela  came  to  herself,  she  awoke  to  find 
all  her  surroundings  strange. 

She  felt  weak  and  ill  and  lonely.  She  was  in 
constant  pain,  and  when  she  realised  where  she 
must  be — actually  in  the  house  of  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher — a  great  panic  overtook  her  and  a  wild  no- 
tion came  into  her  mind  to  escape  before  anyone 
knew  she  had  come  to  her  senses. 

She  made  an  effort  to  rise,  but  found  she  was 
too  weak.  Then  she  lay  still  and  thought. 

She  saw  that  she  was  in  a  luxurious,  lace- 
trimmed,  satin-hung  bed,  in  a  room  ornately  done 
in  blue  and  gold.  Oval  gold  mirrors  were  let  into 
walls  hung  in  blue  brocade,  while  blue  and  gold 
chairs,  fit  for  a  drawing-room,  and  an  inlaid  gilt 
bureau  and  dressing-table,  suitable  for  the  state 
bed-chamber  of  a  crown  princess,  struck  one  like 
a  blow. 

A  magnificent  blue  satin  couch,  heaped  with  lace 
and  embroidered  pillows,  stood  against  one  wall, 
while  over  it  was  thrown  an  ermine  rug  worth  a 
small  fortune. 

On  the  floor  were  priceless  Persian  silk  rugs  of 
a  texture  to  drive  a  connoisseur  wild  with  delight, 
but  far  too  costly  and  precious  to  be  walked  on. 
In  a  sultan's  palace  they  would  have  graced  the 
walls,  but  that  which  an  Eastern  monarch  has  the 
taste  to  respect  the  average  American  millionaire 
spreads  beneath  his  feet.  And  if  he  can  so  man- 
age that  the  monarch  can  see  how  his  treasures 

114 


THE    HOUSE   OP   DISCORD  115 

are  treated  by  a  man  who  has  nothing  but  money, 
his  satisfaction  in  the  desecration  is  enhanced  by 
so  doing. 

Angela  was  too  inexperienced  to  realise  the  cost 
of  the  pictures  on  the  walls — original  paintings 
suitable  for  a  museum,  or  to  understand  the  value 
of  the  ornaments  and  the  clock  on  the  mantel. 
But  the  whole  thing  struck  her  unpleasantly. 

She  thought  of  the  repose  of  the  stately  antique 
furnishings  of  her  mother's  bed-chamber,  the  ex- 
quisite taste  of  which  she  now  began  to  realise  by 
force  of  contrast.  From  the  style  of  her  bedroom, 
Angela  could  picture  the  Frobisher  family. 

The  door  was  standing  ajar  and  from  the  hall, 
Angela  could  hear  voices.  Untrained  and  raucous 
they  were,  often  raised  in  shrill  accents  of  argu- 
ment and  contradiction,  and  once  in  a  while  punc- 
tuated by  angry  crying. 

Then  a  door  opened  somewhere  and  a  harsh 
voice  said: 

"  I  don't  care  what  you  want !  You've  made  a 
fool  of  yourself  and  you  can  get  out  of  it  the  best 
way  you  can.  You  wouldn't  listen  to  me.  You 
were  obstinate  and  pig-headed,  now  get  yourself 
out  of  your  mess.  Don't  come  whimpering  to  me 
about  it.  And  do  shut  up  crying.  I've  got  to  go 
and  see  how  that  girl  is !  " 

"  That  girl "  was  shivering  and  cowering  in  her 
bed,  trying  to  get  away  from  the  impending  inter- 
view. She  looked  up  trembling. 

"  Oh,  you're  awake,  are  you?  I'm  your  Aunt 
Maude.  What's  the  matter  with  you?  Have  you 
got  fever?  I'm  scared  to  death  that  you'll  have  it 
yet.  The  doctor  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes  and 
then  I'll  know.  I've  had  all  your  clothes  burned." 

"  Burned !  "  exclaimed  Angela  involuntarily. 

"Certainly!    Burned!    I  can't  think  why  your 


116  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

father  should  have  done  such  an  awful  thing  as 
to  bring  you  right  from  a  school  where  there  was 
an  epidemic  of  scarlet  fever,  straight  into  my 
house.  It's  a  good  thing  he  was  killed  before  I 
got  a  chance  to  tell  him  what  I  thought  of  him. 
And  you  can  thank  your  lucky  stars  that  your 
Uncle  Ralph  is  a  kind-hearted  man,  for  he 
wouldn't  hear  to  my  packing  you  off  to  a  hospital, 
but  made  me  keep  you  right  here,  though  I  told 
him,  if  you  had  it,  we'd  have  to  burn  everything 
in  this  room,  and  it  cost  fifty  thousand  dollars  to 
furnish  it,  not  counting  the  painting  on  the  ceil- 
ing which  cost  another  twenty  thousand.  How  do 
you  feel?  " 

"  Cold ! "  answered  Angela,  and  indeed  her  teeth 
were  chattering  from  fear  and  nervousness. 

"  Cold !  That's  good !  I'm  glad  you  didn't  say 
hot.  What  do  you  feel  as  if  you  could  eat?  You 
can  have  anything  you  want  in  this  house ! " 

"  I  am  not  hungry,"  whispered  Angela. 

"What  are  you  whispering  for?  Are  you  that 
weak?  My  land!  That  means  you  must  be  pretty 
sick.  Well,  I'm  not  surprised.  It  wouldn't  do  for 
you  to  be  seen  at  the  funeral  anyhow.  It  isn't 
proper.  We  are  going  to  have  it  to-morrow.  I 
think  it's  right  I  should  tell  you." 

Angela  began  to  sob  nervously. 

"  Now  don't  take  on ! "  said  her  aunt.  "  I  had 
to  tell  you.  Your  nurse  is  at  breakfast.  I  do  hate 
trained  nurses.  They  always  upset  the  servants, 
but  your  uncle  would  have  one  for  you,  though  the 
third  chambermaid  could  have  waited  on  you  per- 
fectly well.  Could  you  eat  an  egg  beaten  up  with 
brandy — real  fine  brandy?  Your  uncle  imported 
it  himself,  and  it  cost  eleven  dollars  a  bottle,  so 
you  see  it's  good.  Do  you  feel  as  if  you  could  get 
get  that  down?" 


117 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  Angela. 

"  Then  what  do  you  want?  " 

"A  little  toast,  please,  and  a  cup  of  tea." 

"  All  right.  I'll  ring  for  it.  Oh !  one  thing  more ! 
I  found  out  from  those  letters  to  your  father  in 
your  bag,  that  you  didn't  bring  all  your  clothes 
from  Miss  Simpson's,  so  I  want  you  to  write  just 
the  minute  you  feel  able  to  sit  up  and  tell  her  to 
burn  them,  just  where  they  are.  I  don't  want  them 
sent  here.  I'll  buy  you  all  you  need  and  much 
finer  things  than  you  probably  ever  saw.  Your 
uncle  is  just  made  of  money,  and  whatever  we 
want  we  have.  We  can  pay  the  piper!  Will  you 
do  that?" 

"  Certainly,"  murmured  Angela. 

"Oh,  perhaps  I'd  better  send  a  telegram.  I'll 
just  say,  'Don't  think  of  forwarding  Miss  Fro- 
bisher's  belongings.  Destroy  everything  for  fear 
of  infection,'  and  sign  my  name  to  it.  That  will 
be  quicker  and  I  can  do  that  to-day.  Shall  I?  " 

"If  you  like,"  answered  Angela,  in  a  weak 
voice. 

"  Well,  I'll  do  it  and  get  it  off  my  mind.  What'd 
you  say?" 

"  I  asked  if  you  burned  those  letters  in  my  bag?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't.  I  didn't  burn  anything  in  your 
bag.  It  looked  so  new  I  thought  it  was  safe  to 
keep  it,  because,  after  all,  if  you've  brought  the 
fever  into  this  house,  it's  in  you,  just  as  much  as 
it  was  in  your  clothes.  I  didn't  think  of  that, 
though,  till  after  I  had  burned  them.  They  weren't 
much,  so  you  won't  miss  them.  As  I  said,  I'll  get 
you  plenty  more.  There  isn't  a  stingy  bone  in  my 
body,  as  you'll  find  out  before  you've  been  here 
very  long." 

Answering  a  discreet  knock  at  the  door,  Mrs. 
Frobisher  called  out: 


118  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"Bring  this  young  lady  some  toast  and  tea!" 

There  was  pause,  then  an  apologetic: 

"  Pardon,  madame ! " 

"  Oh,  my  Lord !  It's  that  fool  of  a  Frenchman, 
Francois,  Madame  Jaquelin  sent  me.  She  said  he 
could  speak  English,  but  he  can't.  Nor  understand 
it  either.  If  he  wasn't  such  a  stunning  looking 
creature,  I'd  send  him  packing.  What  shall  I  do? 
I  don't  suppose  you  can  speak  French.  I  never 
heard  of  a  girl  from  a  boarding  school  who  could. 
Your  cousin  Evangeline  can't  say  ten  words,  and 
I'll  bet  I've  paid  a  thousand  dollars  for  her  French 
lessons  alone.  What?  " 

"  I  can  speak  it.  Ask  him  to  come  in,"  said 
Angela,  quietly. 

Her  aunt  went  to  the  door  and  beckoned  the 
man  in. 

He  came  with  the  quiet  tread  and  deft  manner 
of  a  perfectly  trained  servant. 

"  Un  morceau  du  pain  grille  et  du  th6,  s'il  vous 
plait!"  said  Angela  in  her  gentle  voice. 

"  Avec  du  beurre,  mademoiselle,  ou  du  lait?  " 

"Avec  du  beurre.  Tres  sec  et  tres  chaud,"  an- 
swered Angela,  with  a  smile  at  the  man's  eagerness 
to  please. 

"  Bon !  Je  vais  1'apporter  toute  de  suite,  made- 
moiselle," answered  Francois,  bounding  to  the 
door  like  a  rubber  ball. 

"  Well,  I  never!  "  said  Mrs.  Frobisher.  "  That's 
the  first  time  he  has  looked  pleasant  since  he  came. 
He  looks  like  Caruso,  don't  you  think  so?  WTith 
that  thick  neck  and  those  huge  shoulders?  Most 
tenors  are  so  little  and  thin,  I  can't  bear  to  look 
at  ?em.  I  love  to  watch  Caruso,  don't  you?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Angela,  wincing  as  a  door 
slammed  loudly  near  by.  Her  head  was  still  ach- 
ing painfully.  "  I  never  saw  him." 


THE    HOUSE   OP  DISCORD  119 

"  Evangeline ! "  called  Mrs.  Frobisher. 

Evangeline,  the  trained  nurse,  Miss  Carson,  and 
Francois  with  the  breakfast,  all  entered  at  once, 
and  loud  talking  which  no  one  tried  to  quell,  was 
immediately  begun. 

Angela  observed  the  looks  of  positive  dislike  the 
Frenchman  bestowed  upon  all  but  herself,  and  the 
subject  of  how  to  post  a  letter  to  her  mother  was 
practically  solved  in  her  mind.  She  was  sure  that 
if  he  were  told  it  must  not  be  mentioned  to  any- 
one in  the  house,  it  would  be  a  pleasure  for  him 
to  do  any  service  for  her. 

Evangeline  and  Angela  examined  each  other 
carefully,  betraying  their  natures  in  so  doing. 

Angela  looked  at  the  newcomer  frankly  and 
pleasantly,  predisposed  to  be  friendly,  whereas 
Evangeline  studied  the  prostrate  figure  of  her  sup- 
posed cousin  with  curiosity  and  a  quickly  formed 
jealousy,  her  suspicious  nature  at  once  jumping  to 
the  conclusion  that  any  girl  as  beautiful  as  Angela 
would  try  in  every  way  to  usurp  the  prerogatives 
of  any  other  girl  in  the  arena. 

Angela  felt  the  antagonism  of  her  cousin's  man- 
ner and  shrank  from  her. 

When  the  doctor  was  announced,  Evangeline 
left  the  room  quickly,  and  thus  escaped  the  re- 
proof which  the  nurse  received  for  allowing  such 
confusion  in  the  sickroom. 

"  It  won't  be  scarlet  fever,  will  it,  doctor? " 
asked  Mrs.  Frobisher,  anxiously.  "  Evangeline 
has  had  it  and  so  did  I,  when  I  was  a  child,  but 
Neddie  hasn't  had  it." 

"  It  is  much  more  likely  to  be  brain  fever  if  the 
young  lady  is  not  kept  more  quiet,"  said  the  doctor 
brusquely,  but  in  too  low  a  tone  for  Angela  to  hear. 

His  visit  was  short,  but  his  directions  were  ex- 
plicit. The  nurse  listened  to  them  haughtily. 


120  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

It  was  the  second  day  before  Angela  managed 
with  pencil  and  paper  to  write  to  her  mother  a 
short  account  of  the  strange  happenings  which  had 
befallen  her. 

"They  are  all  dreadful,  but  the  sight  of  my 
*  uncle '  fllla  me  with  more  terror  than  all  the  others 
put  together.  His  face  makes  me  believe  him  ca- 
pable of  all  the  papers  say  of  him,  which  his  son 
takes  perfect  delight  in  reading  to  me,  showing  an 
inhuman  glee  in  the  abuse  heaped  upon  his  father. 
His  name  is  Ned,  but  his  mother  calls  him  Neddie, 
much  to  his  mortification.  Ned  says  his  father 
would  go  to  jail  as  soon  as  anything  if  he  didn't 
have  so  much  money.  He  says  he  is  being  looked 
out  for. 

"I  dislike  being  in  this  house  more  than  I  can 
say,  but  I  was  so  sure  you  would  want  me  to  come 
and  stay,  if  once  I  got  here,  and  the  stake  is  so 
vitally  important  if  we  win,  that  I  am  willing  to 
sacrifice  everything  to  do  what  I  feel  would  be 
your  bidding.  If  I  am  correct,  send  me  the  en- 
closed telegram  with  just  one  word  'yes,'  which  I 
shall  understand.  This  has  my  new  name  and  ad- 
dress. 

"  As  soon  as  I  am  well,  I  will  try  to  manufacture 
an  excuse  to  go  and  see  you,  though  I  fear  it  will 
be  difficult  and  perhaps  impossible." 

Angela  read  and  re-read  her  letter  very  care- 
fully to  see,  even  if  Francois  played  her  false  and 
showed  the  letter,  what  would  incriminate  her. 
Suddenly  she  realised  that  the  address  on  the  en- 
velope would  be  enough.  If  Mrs.  Frobisher  were 
in  her  husband's  confidence  the  mere  name  Yorke 
would  be  sufficient  condemnation. 

In  an  agony  of  anxiety  she  waited,  until  one  day 
Mrs.  Frobisher  lost  her  temper  entirely  and  scolded 
Francois  in  such  shrill  English  that,  although  he 


THE    HOUSE   OF   DISCOKD  121 

understood  nothing  of  what  she  said,  his  flaming 
face  betrayed  his  humiliation  and  anger. 

This  was  Angela's  chance.  Before  he  had  time 
to  cool  down,  she  managed  to  say  to  him: 

"  It  would  make  my  aunt  very  angry  if  she  knew 
I  was  writing  to  this  lady.  May  I  trust  your  dis- 
cretion to  post  it  for  me  secretly  and  with  your 
own  hands?" 

Francois  put  the  money  back  into  her  hand, 
ground  his  teeth  and  almost  snatched  the  letter. 

Angela  told  Francois  that  the  answer  to  her  let- 
ter would  be  a  telegram,  which  she  desired  to  re- 
ceive secretly.  The  Frenchman  promised  to  see 
that  it  was  delivered  to  her  without  the  knowledge 
of  even  one  of  the  other  servants. 

On  the  second  day  it  came — the  telegram  con- 
taining just  the  one  word  'yes.'  Angela  immedi- 
ately experienced  such  relief  that  she  realised  how 
much  of  her  bad  feelings  were  due  to  anxiety  as  to 
her  mother's  approval.  It  gave  her  joy  to  realise 
that  her  new-found  treasure  of  a  mother  to  work 
for  and  sacrifice  for  and  love,  was  all  that  she 
needed  to  make  even  her  ill-starred  life  a  happy 
one. 

Angela  never  pitied  herself.  She  was  full  of  a 
splendid  courage,  and  her  sincerity  of  purpose 
and  utter  absence  of  duplicity  set  her  feet  on  the 
road  to  true  happiness.  She  rejoiced  to  have  some- 
one belonging  to  her,  for  whom  it  was  a  pleasure 
to  sacrifice  herself.  As  in  this  instance. 

Angela  soon  named  the  magnificent  mansion  of 
the  Frobishers,  The  House  of  Discord.  But  she 
did  not  realise  that  from  the  moment  the  refined 
and  gentle  girl  entered  its  massive  doors,  her  in- 
fluence manifested  itself  in  its  inmates,  lessening 
the  discord,  and  rendering  all  its  warring  elements 
more  harmonious. 


122  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

But  she  herself  was  not  happy.  She  soon  found 
herself  in  the  midst  of  positive  hardships.  Her 
aunt  Maude  tolerated,  but  did  not  like  her.  Evan- 
geline  hated  her.  Ned  was  rapidly  falling  in  love 
with  her,  and  her  supposed  uncle,  Kalph  Fro- 
bisher,  so  frankly  admired  her  whenever  he  was  in 
the  house,  which  was  very  little,  that  it  made  her 
uncomfortable  in  his  presence. 

Howard  Gallup  was  her  only  comfort,  and  soon 
this  comfort  was  removed  when  she  discovered  by 
unmistakable  signs  that  he,  too,  had  fallen  a  vic- 
tim to  her  beauty  of  face  and  loveliness  of  char- 
acter. 

Secretly  she  still  cherished  the  image  of  Ayres 
Arbuthnot  as  she  had  seen  him  last,  bending  over 
her  cot,  with  his  handsome  face  full  of  anxiety  and 
helplessness — the  honest  helplessness  of  a  man 
who  is  eager  to  do  everything,  but  who  knows  how 
to  do  nothing. 

She  knew  that  he  had  called  once,  for  her  aunt 
was  full  of  complacence  at  being  noticed  by  one  of 
the  Arbuthnots,  and  had  reported  his  call  and  de- 
lightedly brought  up  his  flowers  and  placed  them 
with  her  own  hands  in  Angela's  room. 

But  after  the  first  day  she  heard  nothing  more. 
She  thought  she  detected  a  desire  on  Francois' 
part  to  tell  her  something,  but  the  nurse  or  some- 
one was  always  in  the  room  and  he  was  evidently 
afraid  to  risk  it. 

Finally  one  day  he  brought  her  tray  when  no 
one  was  in  the  room  but  Mrs.  Frobisher. 

The  Frenchman  turned  at  the  door,  just  as  he 
was  about  to  leave  the  room,  and  with  superb  ef- 
frontery said: 

"Mademoiselle  is  being  robbed  as  well  as  de- 
ceived. The  young  gentleman  who  sent  flowers  the 
first  day  calls  each  morning  in  person,  and  sends 


THE   HOUSE   OF   DISCORD  123 

daily  boxes  of  superb  flowers  of  which  mademoi- 
selle never  hears.  They  are  stolen  by  the  ugly 
daughter  of  the  house,  who  vainly  wishes  that  they 
were  sent  to  her.  Has  mademoiselle  any  message 
to  send?  God  be  thanked,  the  young  man  speaks 
French  like  a  Parisian." 

Angela's  telltale  face  flushed  crimson  under  her 
aunt's  sharp  and  suspicious  glance,  which  flew 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  the  Frenchman  contin- 
ued to  mystify  her  by  his  torrent  of  rapidly-spoken 
words. 

"  Yes.  Tell  him  that  I  am  grateful  for  his  kind- 
ness, and  that  soon  I  shall  be  well  enough  to  thank 
him  in  person." 

Francois,  beaming  with  joy  at  thus  being  per- 
mitted to  assist  in  an  affair  of  this  sort,  bowed  and 
withdrew. 

Instantly  Mrs.  Frobisher's  worst  side  appeared. 

"What  was  he  saying  to  you?  Why  did  you 
turn  so  red?  Answer  me !  And  why  did  you  thank 
him?  I  understand  that  one  word !  I  also  under- 
stand that  you  said  you  would  do  something  in 
person !  Now,  you  just  tell  me  the  whole  thing ! " 

Angela,  when  her  aunt  began,  expected  to  be 
frightened,  but  the  vulgarity  of  the  woman  defeated 
her  intention  to  intimidate,  for  Angela  found  her- 
self luite  calm  and  collected. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Aunt  Maude,"  she  said,  "  but 
it  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  tell  you  what  he 
said  or  what  I  replied.  If  you  like,  I  will  go  out 
of  your  house  this  very  day,  because  I  have  resisted 
your  authority,  but  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to 
refuse  to  tell  you." 

Mrs.  Frobisher  looked  at  the  frail  figure  of  the 
girl  in  astonishment.  She  ruled  her  entire  family 
by  means  of  her  shrill  voice,  her  bitter  words,  and 
uncontrolled  temper.  And  so  terrible  were  these 


124  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

weapons  in  her  hands  that  seldom  or  never  was 
she  defied.  That  this  friendless  girl  in  her  house 
on  sufferance  and  wholly,  as  she  believed,  depend- 
ant on  her  bounty,  should  dare  to  disobey  her, 
roused  her  to  a  frenzy. 

She  came  and  stood  over  the  couch  where  An- 
gela lay,  and  fairly  shaking  with  fury,  she  began 
to  shout  at  her,  hurling  her  dependence  in  her 
face,  sneering  at  her,  taunting  her,  and  boasting 
in  every  other  sentence  of  the  limitless  power  of 
her  husband's  wealth. 

"  I  tell  you  you  don't  know  me !  You  don't  know 
what  I  can  do!  When  I  do  a  thing,  people  stand 
from  under.  Money,  such  as  ours,  buys  every- 
thing. It  buys  the  respect  of  the  common  herd. 
It  buys  exclusiveness.  Why,  you  don't  suppose 
that  I  need  to  mix  with  common  people  of  your 
class,  unless  I  want  to,  do  you?  On  board  ship 
I  sent  my  courier  and  maid  to  the  captain's  table 
in  our  reserved  places,  while  we  had  a  private 
table  of  our  own !  You  didn't  know  that,  did  you? 
Well,  you  know  it  now!  And  for  a  snip  like  you 
to  say  *  I  won't '  to  me — to  me,  Mrs.  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher!  Wrell,  just  you  wait  until  I  tell  your 
uncle!  That's  all!" 

"  I  shall  not  wait  for  you  to  tell  him,"  said  An- 
gela, quietly.  "  I  shall  leave  a  note  for  him  telling 
him  just  why  I  have  gone !  " 

These  quietly  spoken  words  produced  a  curious 
effect  upon  the  angry  woman. 

"Why  you  have  gone!"  she  stuttered.  "Why 
you  have  gone!  And  where  do  you  expect  to  go, 
may  I  ask,  with  no  money  and  no  friends  and  no 
clothes,  except  what  I  choose  to  give  you?" 

For  reply  Angela  handed  her  a  letter  from  Alan 
Patrick,  which  told  of  his  having  secured  space 
work  on  The  Blazed  Trail  for  her  on  account  of 


THE   HOUSE   OF   DISCORD  125 

the  samples  of  her  work  she  had  submitted.  The 
letter  was  addressed  to  Miss  Frobisher,  as  Angela 
had  been  obliged  to  take  him  still  further  into  her 
confidence. 

"  Well,  I  never ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Frobisher. 
"Of  all  the  impudence!  A  niece  of  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher a  common  reporter!  Just  you  wait  until  I 
show  this  to  your  uncle !  He'll  fix  you !  So !  You 
weren't  satisfied  with  all  we  could  do  for  you,  but 
you  must  have  a  job  to  fall  back  on,  in  case  our 
treatment  of  you  did  not  suit  your  High  and 
Mightiness!  I  see  through  you  all  right,  all  right, 
young  lady!  Holding  that  red  head  of  yours  so 
high!  Just  you  wait  until  your  uncle  hears  of 
this!  I'll  see  to  it  that  you  don't  leave  until  he 
comes ! " 

And  with  that  Mrs.  Frobisher  walked  swiftly  to 
all  the  doors  leading  out  of  Angela's  suite,  locked 
them  and  took  the  keys  with  her. 

After  she  had  locked  Angela  in,  she  knocked  on 
the  door  and  laughed  harshly,  saying: 

"  Come  out  now,  if  you  can ! " 

As  soon  as  she  heard  her  aunt's  door  close,  An- 
gela took  up  the  telephone  which  stood  on  a  low 
table  beside  her  couch,  intending  to  call  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher and  demand  to  be  released  at  once,  for 
her  outraged  pride  was  up  in  arms. 

Then  she  set  the  instrument  down  again. 

"  No,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  that  is  not  the  way." 

She  lay  back  and  closed  her  eyes.  How  would 
her  mother  or  Soeur  Marthe  meet  such  a  crisis  as 
this? 


CHAPTER   XVI 

WITH  THE  MASK  OFF 

Mr.  Frobisher  was  unusually  late  in  coming 
home  that  evening.  His  wife  went  to  the  door  of 
his  dressing-room  several  times  and  listened,  and 
once,  hearing  footsteps,  she  looked  in,  but  it  was 
only  Higgins,  the  valet,  laying  out  his  master's 
evening  clothes. 

When  finally  he  did  come  in,  he  dismissed  his 
servant  and  sank  heavily  into  an  easy  chair,  worn 
in  mind  and  body,  with  the  anxieties  and  menaces 
of  a  hard  day.  But  his  wife  was  not  one  to  take 
account  of  the  signs  of  storm  in  his  face.  She 
burst  in  upon  him  in  a  pink  mirror  velvet  dinner 
gown,  and  with  a  torrent  of  words,  she  poured  forth 
the  story  of  Angela's  insubordination,  and  the 
clever  manner  in  which  she  had  punished  her. 

She  expected  to  be  praised  for  the  deed,  for  her 
husband  usually  cajoled  her  in  that  way.  But 
this  time  she  received  a  rude  shock. 

"  Locked  her  in,  did  you?  And  thought  you  had 
her  claws  cut?  Fool!  She's  got  a  telephone  at 
her  elbow !  She  could  telephone  to  Chicago  if  she 
wanted  to !  Sh^  has  probably  called  up  everybody 
she  ever  knew,  and  told  them  that  her  aunt  had 
locked  her  in  her  room  before  she  had  even  recov- 
ered from  the  terrible  railroad  accident  or  the 
shock  of  her  father's  death !  A  nice  story  that  will 
be  in  to-morrow's  papers!  I  can  just  see  The 
Blazed  Trail!  The  front  page  will  have  your  pic- 
ture and  hers,  with  headlines  two  inches  high." 

"  Oh !  oh ! "  gasped  Mrs.  Frobisher.    "  If  she  has 

196 


WITH    THE    MASK    OFF  127 

done  that,  I'll — I'll  kill  her!  I'll  scratch  her  eyes 
out!" 

"If  you  are  going  to  scratch  anybody's  eyes  out, 
you'd  better  begin  on  your  own.  You  did  the  mis- 
chief! It's  all  your  fault.  If  The  Biased  Trail 
gets  that  story,  I  am  done  for!  Knocked  out! 
They're  all  after  me.  Everything  is  coming  out. 
I've  been  indicted  by  the  Grand  Jury  on  ninety- 
four  counts.  Every  single  thing  I  did  with  the 
Inter-Ocean  Insurance  Company  has  come  out,  and 
the  howl  which  will  go  up  when  this  story  is 
printed  to-morrow  will  make  you  wish  you  were 
dead.  There  is  one  reporter  on  The  Blazed  Trail 
who  has  made  it  so  hot  for  me,  I  could  kill  him  with 
my  own  hands.  Gallup  says  he  is  the  son  of 
Squires  Arbuthnot.  His  name  is  Ayres.  He  sent 
flowers  to  Angela  the  first  day  she  was  here.  I  had 
it  in  mind  to  see  if  he  really  had  noticed  the  girl, 
and  if  so,  to  invite  him  to  dinner  to-morrow  night  to 
meet  her.  But  here  you've  ruined  it  by  what  you 
consider  your  infernal  smartness !  That  was  about 
my  only  chance,  for  he  is  on  the  trail  of  the  most 
dangerous  thing  I  ever  did  in  my  whole  life — you 
know  what  I  mean — the  Cravanath  affair.  If  I 
can  only  get  out  of  the  country  until  people  have 
had  time  to  forget !  The  District  Attorney  holds  out 
the  hope  that  I  won't  be  prosecuted  on  account  of 
'  lack  of  sufficient  evidence.'  But  if  the  Cravanath 
affair  gets  to  the  public,  I'd  be  in  jail  within  two 
hours." 

Mrs.  Frobisher  sank  into  a  chair,  trembling  with 
fear  and  rage  and  humiliation.  Her  husband 
stared  at  her  pitilessly.  It  seemed  to  do  him  good 
to  tell  the  worst. 

"  Of  course  you  know  the  yacht  is  in  commission 
and  where  she  is.  And  a  tug  under  full  steam  is 
not  three  blocks  from  my  office,  and  my  automo- 


128  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

bile  with  the  engine  going  stands  at  my  door,  day 
and  night.  Still,  with  that  devil  of  a  young  Ar- 
bnthnot  at  my  heels,  I  don't  feel  safe  a  minute. 
His  father  has  just  as  much  money  as  I  have,  and 
I  have  the  sickening  idea  that  automobiles  and 
motor  boats  and  special  engines  and  tugs  are  just 
as  much  in  evidence  for  him.  to  chase  me  with,  if 
he  saw  me  bolt,  as  they  are  for  me ! " 

Mrs.  Frobisher  started  up,  her  face  scarlet,  her 
whole  body  trembling. 

"Let  me  see  if  I  can't  square  it  with  her! "  she 
cried.  "Perhaps  she  hasn't  thought  of  the  tele- 
phone. She  seems  as  green  as  grass  about  some 
things ! " 

For  a  moment  a  gleam  of  hope  passed  over  Mr. 
Frobisher's  ashen  face. 

"  Try  it,  for  God's  sake !  And  let  me  know !  It 
is  my  only  chance ! " 

His  wife  rushed  to  the  door  of  Angela's  room, 
unlocked  it  and  entered  without  knocking. 

The  room  was  dark  except  for  a  shaded  reading 
lamp  which  glowed  softly  from  a  table  by  Angela's 
couch. 

The  girl  lay  with  her  arm  thrown  over  her  eyes. 
She  turned  at  her  aunt's  stormy  entrance  and 
looked  at  her. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing,  Angela? "  she  cried. 
"  Have  you  used  the  telephone  since  I  locked  you 
in?" 

"  No,"  said  Angela.  "  I  have  not  used  it.  I  have 
done — nothing ! " 

Although  faint  with  relief  from  her  nervous 
fears,  the  ungoverned  woman  could  not  resist  a, 
taunt. 

"  You  never  thought  of  it,  I  suppose.  You  don't 
seem  much  used  to  things,  I've  noticed." 

"I  thought  of  it — certainly,"  answered  Angela, 


WITH    THE    MASK    OFF  129 

calmly.    "  I  even  took  the  instrument  in  my  hand. 
Then  I  set  it  down  again." 

"Why?"  asked  Mrs.  Frobisher,  curiously. 

Angela  smiled  patiently. 

"  Because  those  whom  I  most  love  would  not 
have  liked  to  know  that  I  could  do  such  a  thing," 
she  said,  quietly. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Mrs.  Frobisher. 

She  did  not  understand  what  Angela  meant,  but 
she  was  too  preoccupied  to  be  curious. 

She  went  nearer  and  sat  down. 

"Did  Francois  bring  your  flowers?"  she  asked. 

"What  flowers?"  asked  Angela,  fixing  her  large 
eyes  on  Mrs.  Frobisher's  face,  with  a  clearness  of 
vision  which  was  most  discomposing  to  that  lady. 

"  The  flowers  Mr.  Arbuthnot  sent.  He  has  sent 
them  every  day.  I  told  Francois  to  bring  them  up 
to  you.  I  wonder  why  he  doesn't  do  it !  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  answered  Angela. 

"  I  will  see  about  it  myself  as  soon  as  I  go  down- 
stairs," declared  Mrs.  Frobisher,  cordially.  "The 
young  man  really  seems  most  devoted.  Have  you 
known  him  long?" 

"  I  don't  know  him  at  all !  "  said  Angela,  hastily. 
She  did  not  wish  to  discuss  Ayres  with  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher, for  she  was  conscious  that  her  usually  pale 
face  was  becoming  uncomfortably  warm. 

"Well,  then  you  should!"  declared  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher. "  He  is  the  son  of  one  of  the  richest  and 
most  respected  men  in  New  York,  and  I  am  going 
to  have  him  to  dinner  to-morrow  night.  You  will 
be  well  enough  to  come  down  for  him,  I  am  sure ! " 
She  smiled  knowingly  at  the  young  girl. 

"  Don't  ask  him  on  my  account,"  begged  Angela, 
sitting  up  in  sudden  excitement.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  she  could  not  bear  it,  if  she  had  to  meet  Ayres 
in  this  house  of  vulgarity  and  discord. 


130  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"I  have  already  invited  him,"  said  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher,  disingenuously. 

"  Has  he  accepted?  "  asked  Angela  with  a  frank 
anxiety  which  Mrs.  Frobisher  misunderstood. 

"  Not  yet,  but  he  will,  for  I  told  him  he  would 
meet  you!" 

Angela  flung  herself  face  downward  among  the 
pillows. 

"  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  dress  from  Paquin's 
that  I  ordered  for  Evangeline.  She  doesn't  know 
it,  so  don't  tell  her,  and  I'll  cable  for  another  to- 
morrow. She  will  never  know  the  difference.  This 
is  white,  fortunately.  The  whole  of  it  is  baby  Irish 
lace  over  taffeta,  and  it  is  a  dream.  It  has  touches 
of  black  velvet  here  and  there,  so  it  is  simply  per- 
fect for  the  occasion  and  under  the  circumstances." 

Mrs.  Frobisher  rose  to  go. 

"  If  I  give  you  that  dress,  will  you  promise  not 
to  show  any  temper  before  your  uncle  about  my 
locking  you  in?  He  hates  a  scene." 

Angela  looked  up  with  a  smile. 

"  I  don't  in  the  least  care  about  the  dress,  but  I 
promise  not  to  show  any  temper." 

Mrs.  Frobisher  misunderstood  her  smile.  She 
shook  her  finger  playfully  at  Angela. 

"  I  thought  the  idea  of  meeting  somebody  would 
put  you  in  a  good  humour ! "  she  said.  "  Good-bye ! 
Now,  I  am  going  to  see  about  your  flowers!  I 
can't  understand  why  Francois  is  so  stupid  about 
my  orders.  Sometimes  I  think  he  does  it  on  pur- 
pose ! " 

She  swept  toward  the  door,  the  shimmering  folds 
of  her  exquisite  gown  trailing  richly  after  her. 

Once  outside,  however,  she  fairly  ran  to  her  hus- 
band's dressing-room. 

He  still  sat  where  she  had  left  him.  He  had  not 
moved,  nor  even  changed  his  attitude. 


WITH   THE    MASK    OFF  131 

"Well?"  he  questioned,  eagerly.     "Well?" 

"It's  all  right!"  answered  his  wife,  trium- 
phantly. "  She  swallowed  it,  bait,  hook  and  line ! 
She  is  wild  to  meet  him  and  she " 

"  But  the  telephone ! "  snarled  her  husband. 
"Did  she  use  the  telephone?" 

"Heavens,  no!  She  never  thought  of  it.  She 
pretended  she  did,  but  I  know  if  it  had  come  into 
her  head,  she  would  have  done  it,  if  only  to  spite 
me.  She  doesn't  love  me  any  too  well.  I  can 
easily  see  that! " 

"Then  make  her  love  you!  Flatter  her!  Pet 
her!  Buy  her  clothes!  I'll  stop  in  at  Tiffany's 
to-morrow  and  buy  her  some  pearls.  Pearls  would 
look  well  on  her,  I  think.  Do  anything  and  every- 
thing you  think  she  wants.  And  if,  through  her, 
I  can  muzzle  that  devil  of  a  reporter,  I  believe  I 
can  pull  through !  " 

He  sprang  up  and  began  to  pace  the  floor  with 
rapid,  nervous  strides.  His  heavy  face,  thick  neck 
and  high  shoulders  gave  him  an  unattractive  ap- 
pearance at  all  hours,  but  this  evening  his  cheeks 
were  mottled.  There  were  pouches  under  his  fishy 
eyes,  and  the  thick  lobes  of  his  ears  were  almost 
purple  from  suffusion. 

"  I'll  have  the  Grays  to  meet  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Frobisher.  "Shall  I?" 

"Yes,  yes.  By  all  means.  And  anyone  else  you 
like.  Don't  bother  me  with  the  details.  I  am 
nearly  crazy  as  it  is." 

"  You've  been  drinking  again ! "  said  his  wife. 
"  In  your  position  you'd  better  go  a  little  easy." 

"And  how  about  yourself,  my  fine  lady?"  he 
demanded.  "  I  smelled  brandy  on  you  the  mo- 
ment you  entered  the  room.  Your  face  and  your 
neck  are  as  red  as  a  geranium  right  now.  You 
look  like  the  devil  in  that  pink  dress.  Go  take  it 


132  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

off  and  put  on  a  black  one!  You  never  did  have 
any  sense  about  clothes,  Tillie!" 

"Don't  call  me  '  Tillie ' ! "  she  cried.  "  You  know 
I  hate  it!  My  name  is  Maude." 

"  Your  name  was  Matilda  when  I  married  you, 
and  for  twenty  years  after.  Money  turned  it  into 
Maude!  Maude!  The  very  sound  of  it  makes  me 
sick!" 

His  wife  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  face  contorted 
with  anger,  her  hands  clenched,  her  breast  heaving. 

"  I  won't  stay  here  to  be  insulted !  "  she  shrieked. 
"  I'll  leave  this  house,  and  leave  you  to  get  out  of 
your  messes  yourself!  Fortunately  I  have  all  the 
money  I  want,  so  I  can  snap  my  fingers  in  your 
face!" 

Her  husband  stopped  his  rapid  walk,  turned  and 
crept  up  to  her  like  a  beast  of  prey.  His  eyes  were 
bloodshot.  His  face  was  purple,  his  jaws  and 
hands  were  clenched,  and  his  lips  drawn  back 
from  his  large  white  teeth  until  his  whole  face  re- 
sembled that  of  a  tiger  about  to  spring. 

His  wife  put  her  hands  behind  her  and  began  to 
back  away  from  him,  gasping  with  fear. 

"  Go  out  of  this  house,  will  you,  and  leave  me  in 
the  lurch,  when  I  need  you ! "  he  hissed.  "  If  I 
thought  for  one  moment  you  would,  I'd  kill  you 
right  now!  Do  you  hear  me?  And  if  you  did  do 
it,  I'd  let  everybody  else  go  to  the  devil,  and  I'd 
follow  you  from  place  to  place  until  I'd  found 
you!  You!  To  dare  to  threaten  me,  when  I  am 
fighting  in  my  last  ditch !  You  gutter  snipe !  You 
were  washing  dishes  in  your  uncle's  restaurant  in 
Pueblo  when  I  married  you  and  took  your. hands 
out  of  the  soap  suds !  Yet  you  dare  to  tell  me  what 
you  will  do !  Now  you  let  me  tell  you  what  you'll 
do!  You'll  do  just  exactly  as  I  say,  down  to  the 
last  letter,  from  now  on  until  I  am  through  with 


WITH    THE    MASK    OFF  133 

you  and  don't  need  your  help.  And  remember  this. 
If  you  once  lose  sight  of  my  wishes  and  instruc- 
tions— if  you  for  one  moment  let  your  temper  OP 
your  jealousy,  either  for  yourself  or  Evangeline, 
run  away  with  you — if  you  don't  obey  what  I  tell 
you  about  Angela  down  to  the  smallest  detail,  I'll 
take  everything  away  from  you,  except  the  clothes 
you  stand  up  in,  and  I'll  skip  the  country.  You'll 
never  see  me  again.  And  you'll  be  poor  and  alone 
and  disgraced!  Now  what  are  you  going  to  do! 
Tell  me  that!" 

"  I — I — I—  '  stammered  the  woman  with  ashen 
lips.  Further  words  refused  to  come. 

"Speak  out,  I  tell  you!" 

"  I  am  going  to  do  exactly  as  you  say ! "  his  wife 
managed  to  gasp,  from  a  throat  as  dry  as  dust, 
"  Just  exactly  as  you  say,  dear !  " 

Ralph  Frobisher  unclenched  his  hands  and 
straightened  up,  although  he  did  not  remove  his 
bloodshot  eyes  from  his  wife's  terrified  face. 

Then  he  pointed  to  the  door. 

"Go  and  change  your  dress  and  tell  the  butler 
that  dinner  will  be  served  in  twenty  minutes.  Now 
I  must  dress." 

Blindly,  the  thoroughly  cawed  woman  felt  her 
way  along  the  wall,  until  she  reached  the  door. 
Then  she  ran  wildly  into  her  own  room,  where  she 
sank,  weeping  hysterically,  into  the  arms  of  her 
astonished  maid. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CHINESE  EYES 

Dry-eyed  misery  made  an  unwelcome  fourth  in 
the  family  of  Marvin  Cray. 

When  he  had  been  a  poor  boy,  uneducated  and 
neglected,  but  ambitious,  he  had  often  said  to  him- 
self that  if  the  time  ever  came  when  he  was  rich 
enough  to  have  leisure  to  study,  he  would  be  happy. 

The  time  had  come  and  gone.  He  had  risen, 
from  Ralph  Frobisher's  office  boy,  to  the  position 
of  private  secretary  and  confidential  clerk.  He 
had  obtained  a  fair  education,  and  by  implicit  obe- 
dience to  his  master,  had  gained  more  wealth  than 
any  man  of  his  age  in  his  acquaintance. 

His  ambition  keeping  pace  with  his  achievement, 
he  had  fallen  madly  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  a 
college  professor,  wThom  he  had  met  during  one  of 
his  summer  vacations,  and  who,  after  an  excited 
and  exciting  courtship,  found  herself  married  to 
him  without  being  able  to  understand  why. 

In  her  case  her  heart  awoke  too  late.  She  had 
never  loved  any  man,  and  in  his  ardent  wooing  he 
had  persuaded  her  that  he  could  teach  her  to  love 
him.  Under  his  tuition,  she  let  her  imagination 
have  full  sway ;  and,  half-hypnotised,  she  gave  him 
a  ring,  showing  that  she  had  given  her  heart  of 
hearts,  as  he  constantly  averred. 

The  dreamy  idealist  had  believed  him,  although 
in  after  years  she  remembered  that  at  first  she 
instinctively  shrank  from  him,  and  afterward  si- 
lenced her  distrust  with  arguments. 

134 


The  thoroughly  cowed  woman  felt  her  way  along  the  wall. 


THE   MAN   WITH   CHINESE    EYES     135 

This  procedure  in  an  intuitive  woman  is  always 
a  mistake.  Intuitions  are  given  to  women,  not  be- 
cause they  are  the  weaker  sex,  but  because  they 
are  the  mothers  of  the  world,  and  they  are  thus 
given  the  strongest  protection  against  unseen  and 
unseeable  evils  that  any  human  being,  either  man 
or  woman,  can  possess. 

Emelie  Cray  did  not  really  awaken  to  the  true 
meaning  of  life  until  after  the  birth  of  her  baby 
girl.  Then  a  sudden,  deep-seated  happiness  took 
possession  of  her,  of  whose  like  she  had  never 
dreamed.  But  with  the  happiness  of  motherhood 
was  also  born  the  unrest  and  active  dissatisfaction 
of  wifehood.  She  began  to  feel  that,  in  a  dim, 
blind  way,  she  was  missing  something  which  other 
women  possessed. 

Then  without  a  word  of  warning,  or  even  a  slight 
illness  to  give  her  a  hint  of  impending  disaster, 
her  year-old  baby  was  attacked  with  that  terror 
of  mothers — infantile  paralysis — and  from  that 
day  to  this,  the  little  thing  had  never  moved  nor 
even  cried.  She  had  simply  lived — that  was  all. 

In  the  frantic  way  of  all  mothers  upon  whom 
this  calamity  descends,  she  had  tried  every  known 
form  of  promised  help,  but  so  far,  everything  had 
failed. 

For  three  years  the  struggle  had  gone  on,  and 
with  each  successive  disappointment  her  soul  had 
expanded  and  her  spiritual  vision  grown  clearer, 
until,  from  being  a  woman  without  a  religion  or 
even  a  God,  she  had  come  to  know  and  understand 
that  this  lesson  must  not  be  shirked  nor  ignored, 
it  must  be  learned.  If,  as  she  believed,  life  is  only 
one  great,  oft-repeated  experience  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect, and  if  religion  is  intended  for  a  daily  food 
instead  of  an  aloof,  seventh-day  duty,  then  it  be- 
came her  privilege  to  discover  the  cause  of  the  ca- 


136  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

lamity  which  had  first  stricken  her  dumb  and  blind 
and  then  loosed  her  tongue  and  caused  her  to  see 
and  to  see  aright. 

Her  probings  and  questionings  and  new  under- 
standing first  alarmed,  then  annoyed,  then  terri- 
fied her  husband.  She  was  still  his  idol — the  one 
great  passion  of  his  unlovely  life.  He  worshipped 
her  as  the  star  of  his  existence,  and  the  unhappi- 
ness  which  had  descended  upon  him  when  he  real- 
ised that,  after  several  years  of  marriage,  he  had 
failed  to  awaken  any  response  to  his  love,  but  that 
instead,  her  regard  had  passed  from  mere  suffer- 
ance to  a  scarcely  veiled  distrust  which  was  rap- 
idly becoming  an  active  suspicion,  awoke  in  him — 
not  a  conscience,  but  a  fear  of  losing  her  alto- 
gether, which  acted  like  a  conscience,  inasmuch  as 
it  caused  him  to  look  in  the  face  certain  crimes 
which  he  had  buried  out  of  sight  and  whose  graves 
he  had  endeavoured  to  forget. 

Affairs  were  in  this  strained  condition,  when 
Mrs.  Frobisher's  invitation  to  dine  reached  them. 

Emelie  Cray,  who  shrank  from  all  association 
with  the  Frobishers,  was  for  refusing  it,  but  her 
husband  wras  so  insistent  that,  rather  than  argue, 
she  consented  to  go. 

She  was  a  beautiful  woman,  albeit  her  beauty 
was  of  such  a  delicate,  highbred  type  that  it  would 
not  have  appealed  to  all.  To  her  husband  it  was  a 
never-ending  wonder,  a  daily  ecstasy,  which 
gripped  him  newly  each  time  he  looked  at  her. 
His  great  delight  was  to  heap  costly  gifts  upon 
her,  to  smother  her  in  rare  furs,  to  load  her  with 
unusual  jewels  and  laces,  which  she  used  with  such 
taste  and  discrimination,  that  it  must  indeed  be 
an  extraordinary  occasion  when  Emelie  Cray  was 
not  the  most  distinguished-looking  woman  in  the 
rooms. 


THE    MAN   WITH    CHINESE    EYES      137 

On  the  night  of  Mrs.  Frobisher's  dinner,  she 
dressed  with,  unusual  care,  and,  knowing  the  ornate 
atmosphere  which  always  permeated  that  house,  she 
wore  no  jewels,  and  a  gown  of  pale  gold  satin  with 
an  overdress  of  priceless  lace,  whose  simplicity  be- 
spoke at  once  a  master  mind  in  its  creation  and 
the  daring  of  perfect  beauty  to  wear  it. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  stared  at  it  and  her,  in  undis- 
guised astonishment,  which  soon  gave  way  to  a 
reluctant  admiration.  Mr.  Frobisher  did  not  give 
Mrs.  Cray  a  thought.  Her  type  never  appealed  to 
him.  Therefore  he  overlooked  her  power. 

But  to  Angela,  homesick,  ashamed  of  her  sur- 
roundings, and  lonely,  the  sight  of  a  kindred  spirit 
was  an  unlooked-for  boon.  She  made  friends  with 
her  at  once. 

To  Emelie  Cray,  the  finding  of  such  a  girl  in  the 
Frobisher  home  was  even  more  of  a  surprise  and 
more  of  an  anomaly  than  Mrs.  Cray's  appearing 
was  to  Angela.  She  could  not  understand  it.  And 
so  perfectly  did  Angela  trust  Mrs.  Cray  at  sight, 
that  it  was  all  the  girl  could  do  to  keep  from  pour- 
ing out  to  her  new  friend  her  whole  secret  and  the 
real  reason  for  her  being  there,  before  they  had 
known  each  other  for  ten  minutes. 

Her  common  sense  saved  her,  for  she  instantly 
realised  the  indiscretion  of  such  an  impulse. 

The  two  women  were  seated  on  a  small  sofa, 
when  Marvin  Cray  entered  at  another  door,  hav- 
ing been  detained  by  Howard  Gallup  at  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher's command. 

As  he  came  toward  them,  Mrs.  Cray  looked  up. 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  husband's  face  when  he 
first  saw  Angela,  as  she  lifted  her  head  and  looked 
at  him. 

That  she  turned  deathly  white  and  seized  the 
arm  of  the  sofa  to  keep  from  fainting,  no  one  no- 


138  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

ticed.  But  Mrs.  Cray  saw  her  husband  stagger 
back,  cover  his  eyes  with  his  hand  for  a  moment,, 
and  then  look  again,  as  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost. 

As  he  lifted  his  hand  Angela  saw  the  ring,  and 
as  he  stood  staring  at  her,  she  saw  gleaming  out  of 
a  chalky  face,  a  pair  of  eyes,  so  black,  so  oriental, 
so  crafty,  so  unmistakably  Chinese,  that  she  knew 
she  was  face  to  face  with  the  man  whose  voice  she 
had  listened  to  through  the  register  at  St.  Ursula's 
— the  man  who,  in  all  probability,  had  stolen  her 
from  her  mother's  arms  and  had  condemned  her 
to  ten  years  of  orphanage,  and  her  mother  to  a 
living  death. 

Mrs.  Cray,  whose  suspicions  of  certain  dark  epi- 
sodes in  her  husband's  life,  while  he  was  the  hench- 
man of  Ralph  Frobisher,  were  daily  being  fed,  not 
only  by  the  bad  disclosures  and  worse  insinua- 
tions of  the  daily  newspapers,  but  by  her  own  ob- 
servations and  deductions,  did  not  remove  her  eyes 
from  her  husband's  face,  while  this  agitation  was 
so  apparent. 

It  must  have  been  true — Mammy's  assertion 
that  Angela  had  changed  very  little  from  her  child- 
ish looks,  for  in  one  black  instant,  when  the  girl 
lifted  her  flower-like  face  to  his,  the  whole  of  his 
crime  came  back  to  him  in  all  its  hideousness. 
Once  more  he  heard  that  mother's  agonised  shriek 
as  he  tore  her  sleeping  child  from  her  arms.  Again 
he  heard  the  awakened  baby's  frightened,  helpless 
cry.  Again  he  heard  the  heavy  fall,  as  the  stricken 
woman  realised  that  the  hand  of  the  destroyer, 
which  had  deprived  her  of  her  husband,  had  now 
been  stretched  forth  to  snatch  away  her  last  re- 
maining joy,  and  for  a  moment,  strong,  iron-nerved 
man  that  he  was,  things  grew  black  before  his 
eyes,  his  senses  swam,  and  he  almost  lost  con- 
sciousness. 


THE   MAN   WITH   CHINESE    EYES     139 

No  love  made  his  wife's  eyes  tender  at  the  sight 
of  his  evident  suffering.  Instead,  the  thought  of 
her  little,  half -alive  baby  at  home,  caused  her 
every  instinct  to  rouse  and  be  on  the  alert.  It  was 
the  instinct  of  the  fighting  mother,  who  feels  the 
cause  of  danger  near — that  instinct  which  turns 
the  gentlest  woman  into  the  semblance  of  a  tigress 
fighting  for  her  young. 

Emelie  Cray  tightened  her  grasp  on  her  fan  and 
drew  her  breath  a  little  more  quickly,  but  that  was 
all  which  she  allowed  to  show  just  then.  Later, 
perhaps,  the  man  would  know  what  it  was  to  have 
aroused  a  woman's  suspicions.  But  not  now. 

He  pulled  himself  together  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble, and  gave  a  nervous  laugh. 

His  wife  mentioned  his  own  and  Angela's  names 
in  the  simplest  form  of  presentation.  Then  the 
girl's  attitude  attracted  her  attention. 

Angela  sat  with  one  hand  grasping  the  arm  of 
the  sofa,  the  other  hand  half  closed  and  the  back 
of  it  pressed  against  her  lips  as  if  to  stifle  a  cry. 
Her  eyes  were  wide  with  terror,  and  her  cheeks 
drained  of  their  delicate  colour  by  the  horrible 
realisation  of  the  man's  identity.  That  he  should 
prove  to  be  the  husband  of  the  beautiful  woman  at 
her  side,  whose  spiritual  loveliness  had  almost 
dragged  her  priceless  secret  from  her  at  sight,  but 
added  to  her  agitation.  The  shock  of  her  narrow 
escape  from  certain  failure  and  precipitate  dis- 
aster still  further  unnerved  her. 

The  sight  of  the  man's  agitation  partially  re- 
stored her  own  balance.  When  he  laughed,  she 
shivered  visibly.  She  felt  Mrs.  Cray's  calm,  trans- 
lucent gaze  upon  her,  but  she  was  powerless  to 
recover  herself  in  time. 

"Oh — ah!  You  must  really  excuse  me — Eme- 
lie," he  stammered.  "  But  the  fact  is,  Miss  Fro- 


140  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

bisher — her  face  reminded  me  of — er — something 
— someone,  I  mean — whom  I  had — had  thought  of 
as — as — well,  as  dead  for  some  years.  I — I — can't 
explain  to  you  how  affected  I  was,  for  a  moment. 
But  now  that  I  look  at  her,  I  see  my  mistake.  A 
chance  resemblance,  that  was  all.  Odd,  how  things 
will  awaken  memories  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
isn't  it?  Beastly  wTarm  in  here!  I  wonder  if  we 
couldn't  have  a  little  air !  Oh,  never  mind !  I  see 
they  are  going  in  to  dinner.  Who  is  taking  you, 
Emelie?" 

"  Mr.  Arbuthnot,"  answered  his  wife,  giving  him 
a  clear  look,  under  which  he  winced. 

"Oh!    You  know  him  already,  don't  you?" 

"I  have  known  the  whole  family  since  I  was  a 
child,"  answered  Mrs.  Cray.  "Ayres  and  I  have 
always  known  each  other.  He  is  a  dear  boy." 

Mrs.  Cray  said  the  last  almost  involuntarily,  in 
response  to  the  sudden  turning  of  Angela's  face 
to  hers  at  the  mention  of  Ayres  Arbuthnot's  name, 
and  the  luminous,  dewy  look  wrhich  came  into  the 
girl's  eyes,  the  older  woman  intuitively  understood. 

The  young  man  in  question  at  that  moment  pre- 
sented himself  before  Mrs.  Cray,  and  again  had 
an  opportunity  to  speak  a  few  words  to  Angela. 
i  There  was  a  moment  of  tense  embarrassment  on 
Angela's  part,  for,  much  as  she  wished  to  play  her 
role  well  and  in  a  sportsmanlike  manner,  she  felt 
that  it  would  be  a  physical  impossibility  to  lay  her 
hand  on  Marvin  Cray's  arm  and  walk  into  the  din- 
ing-room at  his  side. 

fr  He,  on  his  part,  would  have  been  equally  reluc- 
tant. But  he  knew  that  he  was  to  take  in  Mrs. 
Frobisher,  and  Angela  did  not. 

To  her  great  and  ingenuous  relief,  which  Mrs. 
Cray's  clear  eyes  took  cognisance  of,  Howard  Gal- 
lup presented  himself  before  Angela,  and  the  way 


THE   MAN   WITH   CHINESE    EYES     141 

she  sprang  to  her  feet,  the  eager  manner  in  which 
she  took  his  arm,  and  the  smile  of  welcome  she 
bestowed  upon  him,  kept  him  awake  that  night, 
and  disturbed  him  during  his  waking  and  working 
hours  the  next  day  so  that  Mr.  Frobisher  reproved 
him  with  a  sharpness  which  brought  the  indignant 
red  to  his  face. 

But  during  the  dinner  Angela  dutifully  made 
herself  agreeable  to  him,  for  either  her  Aunt  Maude 
or  Uncle  Ralph  kept  their  anxious  eyes  on  her  in 
a  way  which  made  her  most  uncomfortable.  Why 
they  should  so  watch  her,  she  could  not  under- 
stand. 

Others  wratched  her  for  different  reasons.  How- 
ard Gallup  and  her  cousin  Ned,  because  her  beauty 
gave  them  no  rest  except  when  they  did  look  at 
her,  and  the  more  they  looked,  the  more  agitated 
and  unquiet  they  became. 

Evangeline  looked  at  her  because  in  her  Paquin 
frock,  her  string  of  matched  pearls,  her  hair  fash- 
ionably and  becomingly  dressed,  she  made  the  most 
bewitchingly  beautiful  picture  the  eyes  of  a  jeal- 
our  rival  could  torture  herself  with. 

Mrs.  Cray  watched  her  because  she  felt  sure 
that  in  her,  she  had  found  a  key  to  unlock  one  of 
the  doors  in  a  past  in  her  husband's  life,  of  whose 
black  secrets  she  was  daily  becoming  more  ajnd 
more  convinced. 

Mr.  Cray  watched  her  because  of  the  frightful 
resemblance  this  unknown  niece  of  old  Frobisher 
possessed  to  the  baby  daughter  of  Christopher  Cra- 
vanath,  whose  abduction  he  had  carried  out  in 
obedience  to  the  commands  of  a  man  whom  now 
he  both  feared  and  hated,  but  whom  then  he  rev- 
erenced as  the  god  of  his  benefactions. 

Ralph  Frobisher  watched  her  because  she  sat 
between  Howard  Gallup  and  Ayres  Arbuthnot — 


1142,  'ANGELA'S   QUEST 

that  cool  young  man,  who  knew  just  as  well  why 
he  had  been  invited  to  that  dinner  as  if  he  had 
overheard  the  discussion  which  decided  upon  his 
invitation. 

He  had  accepted  because  he  wished  to  see  An- 
gela again,  and  not  because  he  intended  to  let  up, 
even  for  a  moment,  in  his  pursuit  of  the  secret  of 
Christopher  Cravanath's  disappearance.  This  fact 
he  managed  to  convey  to  his  host  by  the  long,  dis- 
^concerting  looks  he  bent  upon  that  gentleman's 
ihigh-coloured  countenance — looks  so  replete  with 
an  understanding  of  the  reason  for  his  host's  dis- 
|comfiture  that  appetite  forsook  him,  and  he  sat 
ithere  picturing  how  it  would  all  look  in  the  col- 
jinfns  of  The  Blazed  Trail,  and  how  it  would  feel 
to;  Ve  in  the  Tombs. 

Ayres  was  quietly  sure  that  his  father  would  be 
righfly  ami,  justly  shocked  that  he  had  so  far  out- 
ragedithe^laws  of  hospitaity  as  to  break  bread  with 
a  i  man  whose  ;  punishment  he  was  bent  upon  ac- 
complishing,"provided  the  crime  he  suspected  could 
be  proved:, 

v  But  .Ajnres.  was  more  set  upon  being  a  successful 
rejforterj  Yhan  in  splitting  hairs  on  social  ethics. 
He  ihad /balanced  the  thing  pro  and  con,  for  some 
tim,e,  before.he  decided  to  accept.  Then  he  discov- 
ered 'thatlhe  must  go.  The  opportunity  to  get  into 
th*e  jin^dstjof  things  was  too  tempting  to  be  ignored. 
Angela  ^was  'there.  That  was  enough, 
^kfter  a' few  glasses  of  champagne,  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher.  plucked  up  courage  and  began  to  take  a 
more  hopeful  'view  of  things.  He  overestimated 
his  resources,  for  he  felt  that  Angela,  in  her  grati- 
tude for  numerous  fine  frocks  and  gifts  of  jewels, 
would  willingly  agree  to  speak  out  frankly  and 
beg  Ayrea  Arbuthnot  to  cease  persecuting  her 
jmclejj  should  he  ask  her,  and  from  that  young 


THE    MAN   WITH   CHINESE    EYES     143 

man's  increasing  devotion  to  Angela,  as  the  dinner 
progressed,  he  felt  sure  that  he  was  seriously  in- 
terested, and  would  do  her  bidding  in  all  things. 

Mr.  Frobisher  saw  with  pleasure  Angela's  colour 
rise  high  after  one  of  Ayres'  murmured  remarks, 
but  he  would  not  have  congratulated  himself,  if  he 
had  known  that  her  embarrassment  aroie  from  the 
fact  that  Ayres  said : 

"  Miss  Frobisher,  I  take  an  extraordinary  inter- 
est in  you,  partly  from  the  way  we  met  and  partly 
from  another  reason.  I  can  see  that  you  are  not 
at  ease  in  this  house,  and  I  believe  I  know  why. 
My  mother  cannot  call  on  you  here  without  begin- 
ning an  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Frobisher,  which 
I  am  loath  to  have  her  do,  but  which  she  will  do  if 
you  wish  it.  What  I  suggest  is  that  you  let  me 
take  you  to  her,  and  that  you  moet  my  family  in 
our  own  house,  where  we  shall  be  free  to  discuss 
matters.  What  do  you  think  about  it?" 

Angela  thought  rapidly  for  a  moment,  and  then 
she  said : 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  call  upon  your  mother  to 
thank  her  for " 

"For  what?"  asked  Ayres,  almost  trembling 
with  eagerness. 

"  For  something  which  I  cannot  explain  here, 
but  which  I  will  gladly  explain  to  all  your  family 
if  you  will  have  a  little  patience ! "  she  answered. 

The  young  man's  hand  clenched  upon  the  table. 

"Tell  me  just  one  thing!"  he  begged.  "Does 
Alan  Patrick  know  it?" 

"  Yes,  he  does !  "  answered  Angela. 

"  Then  I  know  what  it  is,  and  I  know  who  yon 
are,  glory  be  to  God!"  whispered  Ayres.  "I  ac- 
cused him  of  keeping  something  from  me,  but 
he  swore  he  wasn't  doing  it.  He  kept  faith  with 
you,  although  how  he  ever  did  it,  I  don't  know,  as 


144  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

lie  is  the  human  colander  for  secrets,  either  of  his 
own  or  other  people's !  " 

Angela  smiled  and  looked  up  at  him  shyly. 

"Just  let  me  tell  you  one  thing  more  and  then 
I'll  stop  whispering  and  behave  myself.  What  you 
have  just  told  me  has  made  me  happier  than  any- 
thing you  could  possibly  have  said — except  one 
other,  which  you  are  going  to  tell  me  some  day ! " 

Angela  sighed  and  smiled.  She  did  not  fully 
comprehend  him,  but  she  felt  herself  being  drawn 
to  him  by  many  invisible  bonds. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  know  how  much  pleasure 
it  gives  me  to  let  you  suspect  what  I  have  to  tell 
you ! "  she  said,  with  a  shamed  look  at  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher,  who,  flushed  with  wine,  was  laughing  and 
talking  noisily  with  Marvin  Cray. 

Ayres  frowned. 

"  Can't  I,  just ! "  he  said  tersely.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Frobisher.  What  was  it  you  asked?'' 

"  I  asked  who  built  your  father's  yacht?  "  asked 
Mr.  Frobisher,  bluntly. 

Everyone  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  The  Altessa?  Why,  the  Cramps',"  said  Ayres. 
"Why  do  you  ask?" 

Ralph  Frobisher  laughed  and  drained  another 
glass  of  champagne. 

"Mine  belonged  to  the  Crown  Prince  of  Etru- 
ria,"  he  said  proudly.  "  I  saw  her  at  Cowes  and 
liked  her  lines  so,  I  sent  my  agent  to  make  an  offer 
for  her.  The  Crown  Prince  had  just  had  a  run  of* 
bad  luck  at  Monte  Carlo  and  was  glad  to  sell.  She 
was  considered  one  of  'the  most  luxurious  yachts 
in  European  waters,  as  well  as  the  fastest.  But 
after  I  looked  her  over,  I  laughed.  I  had  them 
strip  her  to  her  hull  and  then  showed  them  what 
the  fittings  of  a  gentleman's  yacht  should  be.  She 
cost  me  a  quarter  of  a  million  just  to  do  over,  and 


it  made  all  Europe  wild.  They  couldn't  stand  it 
to  think  that  just  a  plain  American  millionaire 
had  to  have  a  finer  yacht  than  royalty,  and  the 
royalist  press  roasted  me  to  a  crisp.  Gallup  made 
a  scrap  book  of  the  clippings  my  press  agent  gath- 
ered. It  makes  racy  reading.  The  Koenigin  Luise 
is  the  fastest  steam  yacht  in  American  waters ! " 

Ayres  dropped  his  eyes  and  bit  his  lip  to  conceal 
a  smile.  He  made  no  reply. 

"Did  you  hear  what  I  said?"  demanded  Mr. 
Frobisher.  "  I  was  talking  to  you! " 

"Oh,  yes.  I  heard  you'!"  answered  the  young 
man. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  vainly  tried  to  catch  her  hus- 
band's eye,  but  he  was  leaning  forward  with  his 
gaze  fastened  upon  the  young  reporter,  and  did 
not  look  at  her. 

"Well,  what  have  you  to  say  about  it?" 

"Nothing,  Mr.  Frobisher.  Absolutely  nothing!" 
answered  Ayres,  who  recognised  that  his  host  was 
not  quite  himself,  and  felt  pity  for  the  exhibition 
he  was  making. 

"The  Koenigin  Luise  can  show  a  clean  pair  of 
heels  to  any  American  built  yacht  afloat !  "  boasted 
her  owner. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  coughed  loudly  and  her  husband 
looked  up  and  caught  her  signal. 

"  But,  of  course,"  he  hastened  to  add,  "  it  will 
probably  never  come  to  a  race  between  your 
father's  yacht  and  mine!" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Ayres,  carelessly. 
"  Strange  things  happen  sometimes! " 

Mrs.  Frobisher  glanced  swiftly  around  the  table, 
and  seeing  that  Mrs.  Cray  had  finished  her  coffee, 
she  rose  precipitately,  as  if  she  had  come  to  a  point 
where  she  could  not  sit  still  any  longer.  She  had 
scarcely  removed  her  eyes  from  Ayres  Arbuthnot 


146  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

since  the  dinner  began,  and  she  had  recognised 
the  significance  of  his  every  word. 

She  had  even  seen  and  smarted  under  his  toler- 
ance of  her  husband's  partially  intoxicated  con- 
dition, but  the  subject  of  the  rival  yachts  had  been 
too  much  for  her. 

Soon  after  the  ladies  had  left  the  room,  Ayr.es 
excused  himself  and  followed  them,  and  at  a  broad 
hint  from  Marvin  Cray,  Gallup  went  with  him. 

When  the  two  older  men  were  alone  together, 
Cray  said  impulsively : 

"  My  God !  Mr.  Frobisher,  do  you  know  who 
your  niece  is  the  living  picture  of?  " 

"No.    Who?" 

Cray  leaned  nearer. 

"Of  the  child,  Angela  Cravanath!"  he  whis- 
pered. "I  nearly  swooned  to-night  when  I  saw 
her." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  said  you  hadn't  seen  her 
since  the  day  you  took  her  there ! " 

"  I  haven't — that  is,  when  she  knew  it.  But  the 
first  two  or  three  years  I  used  to  catch  glimpses  of 
her,  unknown  to  the  child,  of  course,  for  I  didn't 
propose  ever  to  let  her  recognise  me  afterward,  if 
she  should  ever  escape.  But  there  never  was  such  a 
resemblance !  Never ! " 

"  I  never  saw  her  mother,"  said  Mr.  Frobisher, 
"so  I  don't  know  where  she  gets  her  looks.  But 
she's  handsome,  isn't  she?" 

"  A  beauty !  "  declared  Marvin  Cray.  "  I  par- 
ticularly remember  that  the  Mother  Superior  said 
Angela  was  a  beauty  too.  It  couldn't  be  possible 
that " 

"  Here !  None  of  that ! "  said  Mr.  Frobisher, 
hoarsely.  "I've  got  every  kind  of  a  blue  devil 
that's  made,  after  me  to-night.  Don't  go  out  of 
your  .way  to  manufacture  any  more.  That  girl  is 


my  own  niece — my  dead  brother's  child.  She  had 
letters  in  her  bag  which  proved  her  identity  be- 
yond a  question." 

"Only  letters?  And  in  her  bagf"  asked  Cray. 
"  That  wasn't  enough.  How  about  her  clothes — 
her  trunk?" 

"  Her  trunk  was  burned  in  the  wreck,  and  Mrs. 
Frobisher  wired  to  the  school  where  the  epidemic 
of  scarlet  fever  had  been,  to  destroy  everything 
held  there,  for  fear  of  infection.  My  wife  had  all 
the  clothes  she  wore,  burned  without  looking  at 
them." 

Marvin  Cray  gave  an  impatient  gesture. 

"  But,  man !  The  letters  were  enough ! "  said 
Mr.  Frobisher,  fretfully.  "  They  were  written 
by  herself  to  her  father.  Tillie  read  them,  and 
she  was  satisfied.  What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"  I  suppose  you  remember,  don't  you,  that  the 
reason  I  didn't  go  down  to  St.  Ursula's  this  spring 
was  because  the  Mother  Superior  wrote  that  An- 
gela had  been  transferred  to  St.  Mary-and-Mar- 
tha's,  and  that  she  was  undergoing  her  novitiate! 
Supposing  now — just  supposing  that  this  wasn't 
true,  and  that  Angela  had  escaped ! " 

"Well,  suppose  she  had!  Not  that  I  believe  it, 
but  suppose  she  had!  Why  should  she  show  up 
here,  unconscious  and  with  the  dead  body  of  my 
brother  and  with  his  daughter's  letters  in  her 
satchel?  How  could  she  do  that?" 

Marvin  Cray  let  his  chin  sink  on  his  chest  and 
drew  patterns  on  the  tablecloth. 

"  I  know  it  sounds  impossible.  Still,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Christopher  Cravanath  would  be  clever — 
devilishly  clever,  if  she  was  anything  like  that 
father  of  hers,  and  I  can't  forget  that  she  looked 
as  if  she  had  seen  a  ghost  when  she  first  saw  me !  'r 

"Well,  by  your  own  story,  you  raised  a  little 


,148  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Cain  when  you  saw  the  resemblance,  and  she  is  just 
out  of  bed,  and,  as  you  can  see,  high-strung.  This 
is  the  first  time  she  has  come  downstairs  since 
she  was  brought  here,  and  your  behaviour  probably 
upset  her.  You  are  enough  to  make  anybody  nerv- 
ous sometimes !  No,  no,  Cray.  You  can't  scare  me. 
Angelica  is  just  what  she  seems  to  be." 

"  I  hope  you  are  right.  It  would  be  the  limit  for 
that  affair  to  come  out  just  now.  How  are  things 
going?  " 

Brought  back  to  the  subject  of  his  wrongs,  Ralph 
Frobisher  scowled,  and  bit  savagely  into  his  cigar. 
Champagne  always  started  up  his  self-pity. 

"  That  cub  of  a  reporter — that  Ayres  Arbuthnot 
— is  still  worrying  me.  He  is  eternally  around  the 
offices.  No  matter  how  I  try  to  dodge  him,  at  least 
once  a  day,  he  manages  to  run  me  down.  I  had 
him  here  to-night  because  he  seems  interested  in 
Angelica,  and  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I 
count  on  her  to  call  him  off." 

Marvin  Cray  listened  with  a  frown  between  his 
eyes.  Then  he  spoke: 

"Have  you  heard  from  Don  Rafael  lately?" 

Mr.  Frobisher  shook  his  head  a  trifle  absently. 

"Do  you  know  why?"  pursued  Cray. 

Mr.  Frobisher  looked  up  anxiously. 

"No,  why?" 

"  Because  he  is  in  town.    I  saw  him  to-day." 

Ralph  Frobisher's  face  turned  ashen  white. 

"Here?  Here  in  New  York?"  he  stammered. 
"  You  saw  him?  " 

Cray  nodded  his  head  slowly. 

"  Hasn't  he  been  to  see  you  ? "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Frobisher  shook  his  head. 

"Not  yet!"  he  said,  with  his  jaw  set  grimly. 
"  But  he  will !  He  has  come  to  see  me !  " 

He  sat  for  a  moment  with  his  hands  clenched 


THE    MAN   WITH    CHINESE   EYES     149 

on  the  table,  staring  in  an  unseeing  manner 
straight  before  him. 

Suddenly  he  struck  the  table  a  resounding  blow. 

"  God ! "  he  cried,  starting  to  his  feet,  "  They're 
all  after  me!  And  all  at  once!  But  they  can't 
catch  me  and  they  can't  beat  me !  I've  cheated  the 
hangman  for  thirty  years,  and  I'll  go  on  cheating 
liim  until  /  choose  to  quit.  The  man  isn't  born 
who  can  beat  me  at  my  own  game.  I  was  a  fool 
to  give  way  yesterday  and  turn  coward  before  a 
cub  of  a  reporter,  who  hasn't  cut  his  eye  teeth  yet! 
Let  him  come  on!  Let  him  discover  things!  Let 
him  even  print  his  story !  I  don't  care !  I'll  over- 
ride even  all  he  can  say.  I  tell  you,  Cray,  Ralph 
Frobisher  is  a  bigger  man  than  all  his  enemies  put 
together!" 

To  Marvin  Cray,  Mr.  Frobisher  had  always  been 
a  magnetic  personality,  inasmuch  as  to  the  poor 
boy,  lie  had  represented  success,  snatched  by  the 
most  unscrupulous  methods  from  every  side. 

Money  had!  poured  in.  Friend  and  foe  were 
alike  sacrificed1;  Widows  and  orphans  were  robbed. 
Eailroads  were  wrecked,  banks  merged  and  looted, 
small  corporations  were  crushed  out  of  existence, 
even  though  it  took  men's  lives  in  their  process  of 
destruction.  Trusted  friends  were  beggared,  pools 
formed  and  betrayed,  every  known  and  unknown 
form  of  unchecked  villainy  was  practised  by  this 
man,  who  so  manipulated  other  men,  forced  cir- 
cumstances to  do  his  bidding,  found  human  tools 
ready  to  do  his  dirty  work  and  to  disappear,  either 
by  exile  or  in  jail  for  a  consideration  commensu- 
rate with  the  crime  committed,  that  although  many 
suspected,  no  one  man,  except  possibly  Marvin 
Cray,  had  even  an  inkling  of  the  whole  list  of  this 
monster's  crimes.  Murder  had  been  committed 
more  than  once,  but  that  was  humane  compared  to 


150  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

some  or  his  achievements.  His  lust  of  power  knew 
no  bounds.  His  ambition  was  ruthless.  When- 
ever a  man,  woman  or  child  blocked  his  path  to  a 
certain  goal,  or  their  existence  even  threatened  to 
obstruct  his  instant  arrival  at  a  desired  point, 
those  persons  were  removed  by  an  irresistible 
force,  the  power  of  which  they  were  unable  to  with- 
stand. 

The  man  was  a  genius,  albeit  a  genius  almost 
wholly  evil.  His  foresight  equalled  statesmanship. 
He  saw  so  far  ahead  that  he  took  gigantic  risks 
and  won  so  many  more  times  than  he  lost,  and  he 
took  such  pains  to  conceal  his  losses  even  from  his 
henchmen,  who  were  instrumental  in  carrying 
them  out,  that  people  forgot  them  and  remembered 
only  the  brilliancy  of  his  successes.  He  was  a 
prime  mover  in  all  the  great  financial  deals,  where 
his  counsel  was  respectfully  sought  even  by  men 
who  despised  him  personally. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  was  capable  of  ignoring 
a  great  issue  and  losing  his  head  over  some  mag- 
nificent invention  or  plan,  which  would  not  have 
interested  an  ordinary  bank  clerk.  Also  of  letting 
a  personal  dislike  influence  him  to  the  verge  of 
positive  disaster.  Likewise  he  was  intensely  super- 
stitious, and  would  follow  up  a  petty  spite,  even 
though  it  took  years  to  avenge  it  properly. 

All  this  Marvin  Cray  knew  of  him  and  had  once 
admired  in  the  blind,  adoring  way  in  which  weak 
men,  with  evil  tendencies,  admire  strong  men  who 
possess  the  courage  to  commit  crimes. 

But  since  the  younger  man's  marriage,  loftier 
ideals  had  been  introduced  into  his  home,  and  for 
the  first  time  he  began  to  look  at  his  master 
through  his  wife's  eyes. 

Then  began  a  slow  process  of  alienation,  owing 


to  Emelie's  modest  ambitions  and  her  desire  to  de- 
tach her  husband  from  undeniably  evil  influences. 
She  argued  that  already  they  had  more  than 
enough  money,  and  gradually  her  influence  pre- 
vailed. 

Little  by  little  he  withdrew,  and  more  and  more 
he  began  to  regret  his  past  associations  and  par- 
ticipations in  Mr.  Frobisher's  iniquitous  dealings. 
He  began  to  realise  how  his  wife  would  view  them 
if  she  should  ever  discover  even  a  tenth  of  them. 
And  because  of  his  love  for  her,  not  because  of  any 
new-found  morality,  he  writhed  at  the  thought  of 
such  a  possibility. 

To-night  he  knew  that  she  had  seen  and  taken 
note  of  his  agitation.  He  realised  that  the  door  of 
his  past  had  come  unlatched  in  her  presence,  and, 
appalled  by  his  potential  danger,  for  the  first  time 
he  hated  Ralph  Frobisher  with  a  hatred  as  fierce  as 
it  was  sudden  and  surprising. 

He  was  aghast  at  the  discovery,  nevertheless, 
with  the  fear  of  his  wife's  eyes  upon  him,  he  real- 
ised that  he  was  actually  rejoicing  at  the  peril 
Ealph  Frobisher  was  in.  He  gloried  in  his  accumu- 
lating distress.  Ayres  Arbuthnot,  the  virulent  daily 
press,  the  public  prosecutors,  the  indignant  cry  of 
the  public  to  investigate  and  punish  this  modern 
financial  brigand,  and  the  advent  of  the  sinister 
Don  Rafael — all  these  engines  of  destruction  sud- 
denly became  grateful  to  him. 

He  sat,  ostensibly  gazing  at  his  master,  with 
his  Chinese  eyes  as  inscrutable  as  ever,  but  in 
reality  he  was  staring  at  his  own  reconstructed 
inner  self  with  as  much  genuine  astonishment  as 
an  unbelieving  outsider  could  have  shown. 

He  could  not  understand  the  change  in  himself. 
Possibly  he  was  not  so  entirely  to  blame  as  the 


152  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

sternest  of  moralists  might  think,  for  he  was  born 
with  a  desire  to  achieve  success,  and  an  unscru- 
pulousness — nay,  an  inclination  toward  evil — a 
curious  treachery  of  nature,  most  infrequently 
found  in  Caucasians,  but  seemingly  indigenous  to 
yellow  races. 

Possibly  Marvin  Cray  possessed  some  long  for- 
gotten drops  of  Eastern  blood  in  his  veins,  which 
only  showed  in  the  curious  slant,  shape  and  ex- 
pression of  his  Mongolian  eyes. 

In  a  woman's  head  such  eyes  indicate  that  she 
will  depend  solely  upon  her  physical  charms  to 
win  her  way  with  men.  It  is  never  the  eye  of 
intellect.  It  is  the  eye  of  the  harem — the  eye  of 
the  predatory,  female  animal. 

In  a  manls  head  the  Chinese  eye  means  an  equal 
lack  of  what  Puritans  call  morality,  only  it  gen- 
erally runs  to  business  crookedness.  It  combines 
Oriental  cunning  with  Occidental  greed. 

If  the  Chinese-eyed  American  should  be  a  law- 
yer, you  will  always  find  him  a  king's  jackal.  He 
will  be  utilised  by  men  who  are  doing  spiritual 
wickedness  in  high  places,  whose  trusted  deputy 
he  will  be.  He  will  be  the  active  agent  in  deals 
too  dangerous,  too  low,  and  too  criminal  for  the 
principals  to  appear  in. 

But  perhaps  the  greatest  value  the  Chinese-eyed 
American  possesses  to  his  master  is  his  unswerving 
fidelity  to  evil.  This  Kalph  Frobisher  knew  by  in- 
stinct. After  one  look  into  the  eyes  of  his  then 
office  boy,  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  have  him 
taught  stenography,  and  then  promote  him  to  a 
secretaryship.  He  knew  unmistakably  that  the 
boy  loved  crookedness — loved  it  for  its  own  tortu- 
ous sake — just  as  Frobisher  loved  it.  It  gave  him 
pleasure  to  wind  in  and  out  of  a  labyrinth  and 
mystify  his  competitors  and  take  them  in  an  un- 


THE   MAN    WITH   CHINESE    EYES     153 

guarded  moment  by  surprise,  and  so,  crush  them, 
when  he  could  just  as  well  have  achieved  his  end 
by  honest  competition,  superior  goods,  and  at 
lower  prices. 

Thus,  such  a  youth  as  Marvin  Cray  was  an  ac- 
tual necessity  to  a  man  of  Ralph  Frobisher's  ideals. 
He  trained  Cray's  native  Oriental  cunning  in  Fro- 
bisher's own  school  of  Occidental  disregard  of  law, 
and  showed  him  that  the  whole  end  of  man  was 
never  to  be  caught  with  the  goods  on. 

Thus  he  made  of  the  boy  a  rich  man's  scaven- 
ger, because  of  his  Chinese  eyes  and  the  nature 
back  of  them,  which  had  never  yet  failed  him. 

But,  like  all  great  men  who  deal  constantly  m 
evil,  he  trusted  him  once  too  often,  drove  him  once 
too  far,  and  all  because  he  failed  to  take  account 
of  the  terrible  and  pitiless  purity  which  shone  in 
the  eyes  of  the  wife  of  this  man. 

"  Come  down  to  see  me  to-morrow  at  eleven," 
said  Mr.  Frobisher,  when  a  long  silence  had  fallen 
between  them,  during  which  each  had  been  busy 
with  his  own  thoughts. 

"What  for?"  asked  Cray,  with  a  tone  in  his 
voice  that  his  master  had  never  before  heard.  He 
stared  in  surprise.  Then  his  previous  irritation 
burst  its  bounds  again.  He  banged  his  fist  on  the 
table. 

"  Damn  it !  "  he  cried.  "  You  come  because  I  tell 
you  to!  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  what  I 
want  of  you.  You  come,  that's  all !  " 

Cray  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  Ralph  Frobisher 
straight  in  the  eye. 

"  I  can't  come  to  your  office  to-morrow  at  eleven 
o'clock,  Mr.  Frobisher,"  he  said  quietly.  "I  have 
promised  my  wife  to  take  her  to  the  country,  and 
I  shall  keep  my  word  to  her !  " 

Ordinarily  Mr.  Frobisher  would  have  overlooked 


154  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

such  a  challenge  out  of  policy,  but  to-night  it  fell 
on  raw  nerves. 

His  face  grew  dark  with  passion^ 

"  If  you  are  even  one-half  minute  late,  Marvin 
Cray,  you  will  be  in  jail  before  night!  I  mean 
what  I  say !  Now  go ! " 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  ARBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA 

I 

Two  days  after  Mrs.  Frobisher's  dinner,  Angela 
was  surprised  by  a  telephone  call. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  was  in  Angela's  room  at  the  time, 
and  she  listened  with  the  liveliest  interest  to  An- 
gela's answers. 

Finally  the  girl  said: 

"Well,  I  must  first  ask  Mrs.  Frobisher's  per- 
mission ! " 

Then,  laying  her  hand  over  the  transmitter,  she 
said: 

"Aunt  Maude,  this  is  Miss  Arbuthnot.  She 
wishes  to  know  if  I  will  be  informal  enough  to  ac- 
cept a  call  and  let  her  take  me  to  drive  directly 
afterwards.  I  said  I  must  ask  you." 

"By  all  means!  Why,  certainly!  Don't  keep 
her  waiting.  Tell  her  '  yes ! ' :  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Frobisher. 

Angela  duly  accepted,  thanked  her,  and  hung 
up  the  receiver. 

"  When  is  she  coming? "  asked  her  aunt. 

"  This  afternoon.  She  said  she  would  be  here  in 
about  an  hour." 

"  I'll  wait  and  see  her ! "  announced  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher, in  a  satisfied  manner.  "  I  am  very  glad 
these  people  are  taking  you  up,  Angelica.  You 
don't  seem  to  realise.  They  are  most  important!  " 

"I  expect  to  like  them  very  much,"  answered 
Angela,  guardedly.  She  was  desperately  afraid  of 
saying  something  which  would  give  her  aunt  a 
handle  upon  which  to  hang  one  of  her  long,  tedious 
disquisitions. 

155 


156  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  It's  too  bad  your  uncle  Ralph  and  I  have  to  go 
out  to  dinner  to-night  and  leave  you  three  young 
people  with  nothing  to  do.  Couldn't  you  go  to  the 
theatre,  Angelica,  if  Neddie  got  a  box  and  you  sat 
in  the  back,  out  of  sight?  " 

Angela  bit  her  lip. 

One  of  the  most  awkward  parts  of  her  whole 
grotesque  role  of  niece  and  cousin  to  this  family, 
was  that  which  dealt  with  her  supposed  bereave- 
ment and  subsequent  mourning. 

"  I  don't  care  to  go,  thank  you,"  she  answered. 
"  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  go  to  bed  early.  I  am  not 
as  strong  as  I  thought  I  was." 

"Very  well,  pet.  Do  just  as  you  like  always. 
You  know  this  is  Liberty  Hall!  Now  tell  me. 
What  are  you  going  to  wear?  Have  you  had  time 
to  try  on  those  new  gowns  which  came  yesterdaj7? 
Wear  your  sable  coat  and  a  dress  cut  out  a 
little  at  the  neck,  so  that  your  pearls  will  show, 
and  look  your  very  best,  won't  you?  I  hear  that 
Miss  Arbutlmot  is  very  pretty.  Still,  you'll  prob- 
ably find  that  you  are  much  prettier.  Your  uncle 
Ralph  insists  that  you  are  a  real  beauty,  and  it 
makes  Evangeline  wild ! " 

"  Then  why  does  he  say  it? "  asked  Angela,  pite- 
ously.  "No  wonder  it  hurts  her  feelings!  She 
values  her  father's  opinion,  and  there  is  no  neces- 
sity to  draw  comparisons  between  us.  Evangeline 
looks  quite  lovely  when  she  smiles!  I  wish " 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  cried  Mrs.  Frobisher.  "  Some- 
times I  think  such  generosity  is  merely  a  pose, 
Angelica.  I  can't  imagine  a  girl  really  feeling  as 
disinterested  as  that,  when  it  is  a  question  of  looks. 
Why,  Evangeline  would  cheerfully  eat  me  alive  if 
she  thought  that  by  so  doing  she  could  make  her- 
self handsomer  and  more  attractive  to  men." 

Angela  turned  away  involuntarily,  but  not  be- 


THE  AKBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA   157 

fore  Mrs.  Frobisher  liad  seen  it  and  taken  the 
hint. 

"Well,  there,  Angelica.  I  never  knew  your 
mother,  but  she  must  have  been  too  refined  for  us 
— entirely  out  of  our  class — if  you  are  anything 
like  her,  for  I  can't  make  you  out,  half  the  time. 
However,  all  I  want  you  to  feel  is  this.  We  all 
love  you  and  want  to  do  the  best  we  can  for  you. 
If  we  can  put  you  in  the  way  of  marrying  Ayres 
Arbuthnot — and  this  sudden  informality  certainly 
looks  like  it — you  will  then  see  what  it  has  done 
for  you  to  be  backed  by  the  Ralph  Frobishers !  " 

Tears  of  mortification  stood  in  Angela's  eyes  as 
she  heard  this  construction  put  upon  her  acquaint- 
ance with  a  young  man,  to  whom  she  felt  naturally 
and  innocently  attracted.  Again  she  felt  tempted 
to  turn  upon  Mrs.  Frobisher,  declare  her  identity, 
fling  off  the  hateful  presents  which  were  expected 
to  purchase  her  loyalty,  and  free  herself  from  the 
ignominy  of  her  false  position. 

Then  she  realised  that  she  had  deliberately 
placed  herself  in  that  position  to  further  her  own 
ends.  The  picture  of  her  mother  imprisoned  in 
her  wheeled  chair,  bereft  of  home  and  husband, 
possibly  helpless  for  life,  came  to  her  mind's  eye. 

As  the  thought  gripped  her  that  she  was  in  the 
home  of  the  monster  whom  she  believed  had 
wrought  this  ruin,  and  in  it  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 
covering some  proof  of  his  crime,  with  which  she 
could  confront  him  and  force  him  to  confess  the 
whereabouts  or  fate  of  her  father,  all  her  fighting 
blood  began  to  throb  in  her  veins,  her  stampeded 
courage  returned  fourfold,  and  she  calmly  turned 
her  other  cheek  to  be  smitten  in  the  cause  of  daugh- 
terly loyalty  and  devotion. 

That  she  could  not  possibly  be  so  alone  in  the 
world  as  she  seemed,  Angela's  common  sense  con- 


158  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

stantly  assured  her.  Somewhere  in  the  world  she 
must  have  relations,  who  were  either  searching  for 
her,  or  mourning  her  and  her  parents  as  dead. 

In  moments  when  she  realised  the  horrible  si- 
lence which  shut  her  in,  she  felt  as  if  she  could 
scream  aloud  in  her  impotence.  She  felt  so  small, 
so  alone,  so  insignificant  r<,  creature  to  be  called 
upon  to  fight  this  huge  octopus  of  power  and  wealth 
and  utter  unscrupulousness, 

She  was  like  a  helpless  babe,  lying  in  the  path- 
way of  the  Juggernaut.  It  had  rolled  over  their 
little  family,  maiming,  destroying.  Yet  no  one  re- 
buked nor  hindered  its  triumphant  progress.  On 
the  other  hand,  because  of  the  mysterious,  limit- 
less power  and  undreamed-of  wealth  it  repre- 
sented, men  and  women  knelt  and  worshipped  it 
in  as  blind  an  idolatry  as  ever  the  world  wit- 
nessed. 

Usually,  the  women  and  children,  those  who  suf- 
fer most  by  the  modern  Juggernaut's  progress  over 
their  quivering  souls  and  bodies,  submit  to  the 
maiming  and  mutilation  they  are  forced  to  endure, 
and  only  the  silent  night  and  the  high  heavens  are 
witnesses  of  their  impotent  tears. 

But  in  the  heart  of  the  child  Angela,  was  born  a 
splendid  courage  and  an  ardent  love  for  her  un- 
known parents,  which  would  not  let  her  sit  down 
idly  to  a  life  of  blind  submission  to  a  fate  against 
which  her  strong  soul  revolted  as  cruel  and  unnec- 
essary. It  was  not  her  way  to  wring  her  hands 
and  weep.  With  all  her  outward  gentleness,  she 
had  a  warrior  heart,  and  little  did  the  Frobishers 
dream,  as  they  lived  on  in  their  fancied  security, 
spending,  under  her  clear-seeing  eyes,  the  millions; 
they  had  wrung  from  the  poor,  the  trusting,  the 
helpless,  that  an  avenging  angel,  in  the  person  of 
a  slim  girl,  with  the  pure  face  of  a  saint,  was  surely 
and  steadily  drawing  nearer  to  the  hour  when  she 


THE  ARBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA   159 

would  find  what  she  had  come  to  seek,  and  for  ever 
rob  these  criminals  of  their  right  to  an  hour's 
peaceful  sleep,  untroubled  by  a  fear  of  what  judg- 
ment would  be  pronounced  upon  them  as  a  penalty 
for  their  crimes. 

Thus  with  a  mind  thoroughly  at  rest,  on  account 
of  the  ease  with  which  a  score  of  gowns,  a  few 
jewels,  and  a  goodly  assortment  of  beautiful  furs 
had  seemed  to  win  her  niece  Angelica's  good  will, 
Mrs.  Frobisher  swept  out  of  the  room  to  dress, 
first  making  Angela  promise  to  call  her  the  mo- 
ment Miss  Arbuthnot  arrived,  as  she  had  a  shrewd 
idea  that  Midge  would  not  send  a  card  up  to  her, 
except  with  the  hope  that  she  would  be  out. 

Angela  kept  her  word  and  told  Francois  to  take 
the  cards  to  Madam  Frobisher,  but  the  astute 
Frenchman  gave  the  young  girls  twenty  minutes 
to  themselves  before  he  obeyed  mademoiselle,  so 
that  when  Mrs.  Frobisher  came  down,  Midge  had 
said  all  she  wanted  to,  had  obtained  Angela's 
promise  to  remain  to  dinner  informally,  to  meet 
none  but  the  family,  and  Angela  had  known  by  her 
manner,  that  her  secret  was  suspected,  if  not  ac- 
tually known,  by  the  entire  Arbuthnot  family,  or 
they  would  not  be  accepting  her  in  this  intimate 
and  delightfully  comforting  manner. 

Although  Midge  Arbuthnot  was  a  tiny  creature, 
she  possessed  an  amount  of  savoir  faire  which 
never  failed  her. 

Alan  Patrick  had  told  her  who  Angela  was,  al- 
though he  salved  his  conscience  for  the  breach  of 
confidence  by  lying  nobly  to  Ayres. 

Ayres  had  assured  his  sister  that  he  believed  An- 
gela to  be  more  than  ordinarily  clever.  Therefore, 
with  her  customary  promptness,  Midge  acted  upon 
the  supposition  that  these  two  were  not  mistaken, 
and  from  the  first,  she  took  Angela  for  granted. 

In  this  she  found  an  instantaneous  reward  in 


160  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

the  way  Angela's  pale,  sad  face  flushed  and  lighted 
up  at  recognising  a  friend  of  her  own  class. 

The  moment  they  met,  Midge  plunged  into  the 
midst  of  things,  as  was  her  custom. 

From  the  depths  of  a  big  chair  Angela  saw  a 
little  creature  spring  up,  with  a  small,  dark,  gypsy 
face  and  beautifully  fashioned  little  body,  who  ran 
to  her,  seized  both  her  hands  and  said  in  low  tones : 

"We  won't  waste  a  moment  in  platitudes,  my 
'dear.  I  am  Midge  and  you  are  Angela !  I  am  even 
afraid  the  very  noisy  brocade  on  the  walls  has  ears. 
Mother  sent  word  you  were  to  stay  to  dinner 
with  us  to-night.  Daddy  will  be  there  and  Ayres 
and  Alan  Patrick,  but  nobody  else.  We  are  going 
to  talk  everything  over,  and  Daddy  will  be  your 
friend.  And  so  will  Bettie — that's  my  disgrace- 
fully young  and  sweet  mother — such  a  precious  as 
you  will  find  her ! — and  all  of  us  are  going  to  help. 
We  are  wildly  excited  about  the  whole  thing.  Can 
you  manage  it?  Do  decide  before  anybody  comes ! " 

"  Certainly,  I  will  come,"  said  Angela  with  equal 
spirit  and  decision.  "  And  it  is  dear  and  sweet  of 
you  all  to  ask  me.  I  won't  tell  Mrs.  Frobisher  now. 
We'll  telephone ! " 

Midge  looked  up  at  her. 

"  To  think ! "  she  said  and  laughed  delightedly. 

"  To  think  what  ?  "  repeated  Angela. 

"  To  think  that  a  girl  with  such  an  angel's  face 
could  have  so  much — well,  so  much  ginger!  " 

The  two  girls  laughed  again,  and  Midge 
squeezed  Angela's  long,  slender  fingers  in  both  her 
tiny  gloved  hands. 

A  long  sigh  escaped  Angela  involuntarily. 

"What  is  it?"  inquired  Midge  anxiously. 
"Aren't  you  well  yet?  Have  I  kept  you  standing 
too  long?  Come  and  sit  down  just  a  moment  for 
decency's  sake.  Then  we'll  be  off.  I  brought  the 


THE  ARBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA   161 

electric  runabout  because  it's  a  heavenly  day.  But 
what  made  you  sigh?" 

"  I  sighed  because  I  am  so  happy  to  think  I  have 
found  friends,"  whispered  Angela,  with  a  quick 
glance  behind  her.  "  You  can't  imagine  the  hor- 
rors of  my  position  here.  Sometimes  it  nearlv 
kills  me ! " 

"  I  know  I  can't  imagine  it.  But  Alan  and  I 
both  think  you  are  the  bravest  creature  in  the 
world.  You  know  he  and  I  are  the  only  ones  who 
really  know  who  you  are.  Ayres  and  the  others 
suspect,  but  Alan  was  true  to  you.  He  lied  like  a 
gentleman ! " 

"  But  he  told  you! "  said  Angela  slyly. 

Midge  coloured  charmingly. 

"  He'd  have  died  if  he  hadn't,"  she  said  ingenu- 
ously. "  Besides,  I  don't  count  with  Alan.  Tell- 
ing me  things  is  just  like  talking  to  himself  with 
him!" 

"  Hush !  "  said  Angela.  "  Here  comes  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher ! " 

As  Angela  performed  the  introduction,  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher,  very  highly  coloured  under  her  smart  veil, 
and  exuding  a  strong,  permeating  scent,  which  was 
the  latest  thing  from  Paris,  rustled  across  the  floor 
and  took  little  Miss  Arbuthnot's  hand,  with  a  tor- 
rent of  gushing  words  on  her  lips. 

But  to  her  surprise  she  found  her  progress 
checked  by  the  full  length  of  the  intrepid  little 
maiden's  arm,  which  met  her  outstretched  hand, 
as  firm  and  stiff  as  a  steel  rod.  And  the  older 
woman's  cordiality  was  blocked  by  the  few  cool 
words  the  little  creature  uttered,  likewise  Mrs. 
Frobisher's  intended  offer  of  friendship  never 
reached  her  lips  because  of  the  frost  in  the  smaller 
lady's  eyes. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  was  amazed.     But  she  was  also 


162  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

daunted.    Her  courage  had  not  been  genuine,  con- 
sequently it  ebbed  quickly. 

Midge  refused  to  resume  her  seat.  She  stood 
while  Angela  drew  on  her  gloves.  And  the  two 
girls  made  their  adieux  and  left  the  room,  leaving 
Mrs.  Frobisher  standing  exactly  where  Midge  had 
checked  her  triumphant  progress  toward  intimacy 
with  the  Arbuthnot  family. 

Although  Midge  knew  that  Ayres  was  counting 
every  moment  until  she  would  bring  Angela  home, 
she  kept  her  out  for  an  hour's  drive. 

In  this,  she  was  actuated  by  several  motives. 
One  was  her  desire  to  bring  a  little  colour  to  the 
girl's  pale  cheeks,  and  to  cheer  her  up.  The  other 
was  to  put  to  her  the  mysterious  tests  one  girl 
puts  to  another  whom  she  suspects  to  be  a  pros- 
pective sister-in-law. 

Midge  knew,  as  all  sisters  know,  that  Ayres  was 
deeply  interested  in  this  mysterious  young  girl, 
who  was  so  beautiful  and  courageous. 

She  was  delighted  with  Angela's  high-bred  ap- 
pearance at  first  sight,  but  that  hour's  drive  com- 
pleted her  conquest,  for  Midge  was  sophisticated 
to  such  a  degree  that  she  could  appreciate  Angela's 
simplicity  and  singleness  of  purpose  as  few  others 
could. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house  the  expression 
of  Midge's  face  was  an  indication  to  Bettie  and 
Ayres,  who  anxiously  examined  it,  that  Angela 
had  been  weighed  in  the  balance  and  not  found 
wanting. 

Although  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  was  not  a  demonstra- 
tive woman,  when  she  saw  the  timid  appeal  in  the 
grave  eyes  of  the  tall  young  girl,  she  held  out  her 
arms  to  Angela,  with  the  instinctive  knowledge 
that  the  lonely  girl  missed  and  needed  a  mother's 
love. 


THE  ARBUTHNOTS  AND  ANGELA   103 

"My  dear,"  she  murmured,  "you  must  let  me 
kiss  you,  because  of  what  you  must  have  gone 
through !  Come  right  up  stairs  with  me  and  let  us 
have  a  cup  of  tea  first.  Here  is  Ayres.  You  re- 
member him,  don't  you?  Of  course  /  think  nobody 
could  ever  forget  a  nice  boy  like  Ayres,  but  girls 
are  forgetful  nowadays !  " 

"  /  am  not,"  said  Angela,  gravely  lifting  her  eyes 
to  Ayres'  with  such  perfect  seriousness  that  Midge 
hid  her  face,  and  even  Bettie's  lips  curved. 

In  the  friendliest  fashion  the  girl  was  taken  to 
Mrs.  Arbuthnot's  delightfully  furnished  boudoir, 
where  tea  was  served. 

All  conversation  concerning  herself  was  omitted 
with  a  tact  which  rested  and  charmed  her.  They 
talked  of  themselves  and  gave  her  a  chance  to  learn 
a  little  of  their  own  lives,  and  under  the  genial 
chatter,  her  nervousness  disappeared,  the  strained, 
anxious  look  fled  from  her  grave  eyes,  and  she  be- 
came for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  at  ease,  among 
her  own  kind. 

Presently  Mr.  Arbuthnot  entered,  met  Angela 
with  charming  cordiality,  then  he  and  Ayres  ex- 
cused themselves,  to  dress,  but  Midge  and  Bettie 
decided  to  dine  as  they  were,  which  Angela  felt, 
rather  than  knew,  must  have  been  done  for  her. 

The  customs  of  society  were  as  unknown  to  this 
girl  as  if  she  had  grown  up  in  the  wilderness,  ex- 
cept as  Soeur  Marthe  had  explained  them  to  her. 
Nevertheless  her  heart  told  her  when  a  kindness 
was  done. 

Angela  had  never  sat  down  to  so  beautiful  and 
perfectly  appointed  a  dinner  table,  nor  heard 
anything  like  the  badinage  which  was  flung  back 
and  forth  between  the  young  people,  with  the  el- 
ders participating  and  assisting  the  skirmishers. 

Alan  Patrick  and  Midge  were  the  chief  talkers, 


164  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

for  Ayres  could  do  little  but  sit  and  gaze  at  An- 
gela, with  his  heart  in  his  eyes. 

Nothing  important  was  touched  upon  during 
dinner,  with  the  butler  and  footmen  in  such  close 
proximity. 

But  scarcely  was  the  coffee  served  before  the 
servants  were  dismissed,  and  then  in  an  almost  in- 
stantaneous silence,  which  showed  Angela  how 
deeply  interested  they  all  were  in  her  story,  they 
all  leaned  toward  her,  and  Midge,  with  a  long  sigh, 
said: 

"Now!" 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  ATOM  AND  THE  POWERS 

Love  is  as  contagious  as  fear. 

No  sooner  had  Angela  felt  that  the  moment  had 
arrived  for  which  she  had  waited  with  such  pa- 
tience, than  she  knew  that  these  eager  faces  bent 
upon  hers  were  those  of  honest  helpers  and 
friends. 

A  feeling  of  happiness  and  peace  descended  upon 
her,  the  like  of  which  she  had  never  before  expe- 
rienced. 

She  had  reached  her  third  milepost.  The  first 
was  when  she  found  herself  an  inmate  of  Ralph 
Frobisher's  home.  The  second  was  when  she  met 
the  man  writh  the  Chinese  eyes,  and  better  still,  as 
dear  Soeur  Marthe  suggested,  the  woman  who  had 
given  him  the  ring.  The  third  was  the  first  happy 
one.  It  was  the  hour  in  which  she  found  herself 
in  the  midst  of  the  kindly  Arbuthnots,  a  family, 
each  member  of  which,  delighted  in  being  of  service 
to  others. 

When  Midge  said :  "  Now ! "  and  buried  her 
chin  in  the  palms  of  her  hands,  Angela  looked 
around  the  circle  of  faces  and  smiled. 

"  You  want  me "  she  began  timidly,  with  her 

eyes  fixed  upon  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 

He  removed  his  glasses  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  arm. 

"We  want  to  hear  all  that  you  are  willing  to 
tell  us,  my  dear.  You  need  feel  no  compulsion  to 
disclose  anything  you  may  not  wish,  at  this  time, 
to  divulge,  yet  you  may  feel  free  to  tell  whatever 
you  like,  resting  assured  that  you  are  speaking  to 

165 


166  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

friends,  who  believe  in  you  and  will  do  all  in  their 
power  to  help  you." 

"  I  need  help !  "  said  Angela,  with  trembling  lips. 
"  I  am  so  alone !  You  can't  think — you  who  seem 
so  close  to  one  another — how  dreadfully  alone  I 
am!  I  have  no  one!  No  one!" 

"  You  have  us!  "  said  Ay  res,  unsteadily.  "  You 
have — every  one  of  us,  now !  You  need  never  feel 
alone  again,  need  she,  mother? " 

"  Miss  Frobisher "  began  Bettie 

"  Don't,  oh,  don't  call  me  that ! "  cried  Angela. 
"  I  am  an  impostor !  My  real  name  is  Angela  Cra- 
vanath,  but  I  never  dare  use  it !  I  have  to  be  called 
Angela  Yorke  at  home  because  that  is  the  name  my 
poor  darling  mother  is  hiding  under. 

"Hiding  from  whom?"  asked  Ay  res,  unable  to 
wait  any  longer. 

Again  Angela  gave  that  quick,  anxious  glance 
around  the  table. 

"  From — Kalph  Frobisher !  "  she  said,  in  a  low 
voice. 

A  deep  sigh,  which  sounded  almost  like  satis- 
faction, sounded  from  the  young  man,  as  he  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  his  nostrils  white  and  his  eyes 
blazing  with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  on  the 
right  track  and  closer  than  ever  to  running  his  man 
to  earth. 

"What  has  he  done?"  demanded  Midge. 

"He  separated  my  mother  and  father — how,  I 
do  not  know.  But  the  shock  of  it  drove  mother  to 
the  old  Yorke  place  near  Georgetown,  with  me, 
when  I  was  only  six  years  old.  She  spent  two 
years  in  hiding,  attended  only  by  two  old  negro 
servants,  who  could  neither  read  nor  write.  Then, 
for  some  reason  which  no  one  knows,  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher had  me  kidnapped  and  placed  in  the  St.  Ur- 
sula Foundling's  Home,  where  they  taught  me  that 


THE   ATOM   AND  THE    POWEKS       167 

I  wag  two  or  three  years  younger  than  I  am.  I 
remained  there  for  ten  years.  Then  my  dear  Soeur 
Marthe,  the  nun  who  educated  me,  helped  me  to 
escape.  She  broke  her  vows  in  order  to  tell  ine 
who  I  was  and  where  I  lived.  She  gave  me  enough 
money  to  get  home  on  and  a  disguise.  On  the  train 
I  was  followed  by  detectives,  but  I  met  Mr.  Pat- 
rick and  he  helped  me.  At  the  station  in  Wash- 
ington I  first  saw  you ! "  said  Angela  innocently, 
turning  her  eyes  suddenly  upon  Ayres,  who  leaned 
forward  as  if  galvanised. 

"You  saw  me!    Where?    How?" 

"  You  were  standing  on  the  platform  with  a  lot 
of  others,  just  as  the  train  pulled  in,  and  Mr.  Pat- 
rick said :  *  There's  Ayres  Arbuthnot  and  the  whole 
bunch/  So  then  I  knew  that  you  must  be  Ayres 
Arbuthnot,  and  I  remembered  you,"  said  Angela 
simply. 

Midge  tried  very  hard  not  to,  but  her  wicked 
eyes  would  turn  of  their  own  accord  to  her  brother's 
face. 

But  for  once,  Ayres  was  oblivious  of  his  sister's 
presence.  He  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Angela, 
and  the  father  and  mother  watching,  felt  well 
satisfied  with  the  look  of  purity  and  truth  which 
shone  in  Angela's  beautiful  face.  They  felt  that 
their  son  would  love  and  be  loved  worthily  and  no 
whit  for  his  earthly  possessions,  for  the  young 
girl's  whole  presence  bespoke  a  sincerity  and  sim- 
plicity which  drew  their  hearts  to  her  irresistibly. 

Even  Midge  had  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  of  her 
impish  smile,  and  she  bravely  forbore  so  much  as 
to  glance  at  Alan  Patrick,  who  generally  abetted 
her  in  her  innocent  wickedness. 

"Where  did  you  get  to,  after  you  left  me?"  he 
broke  in.  "  I've  meant  to  ask  you  forty  times,  but 
I  always  forgot  it  when  I  wrote." 


168  ANGELA'S   QUESTj 

Angela  smiled. 

"Mammy  says  I  was  led,"  she  answered.  "My 
own  religion  is  so  peculiar,  I  am  afraid  nobody 
would  understand  it  except  me.  It  used  to  shock 
dear  Soeur  Marthe  because  I  refused  to  believe 
that  God,  as  a  Father,  scourged  His  children.  I 
incline  more  to  Mammy's  belief  that  when  you  un- 
derstand God,  He  does,  indeed,  lead  you.  For  how 
else  could  I  have  been  so  guided?  You  told  me  to 
get  into  that  taxicab,  and  I  intended  to  do  it. 
Then  1  hesitated.  Why  did  I  hesitate,  do  you  sup- 
pose? I  had  perfect  confidence  in  you  and  your 
judgment,  yet  if  I  had  taken  that  taxi,  I  would 
have  been  caught,  for  that  was  followed  and  my 
shabby  old  hack  was  not  even  looked  at." 

"  I  see !  "  said  Alan,  vaguely,  not  seeing  nor  un- 
derstanding in  the  least,  as  Midge  knew  by  tho 
looks  of  him.  But  she  said  nothing.  She  saved  it 
to  taunt  him  with  later. 

"  It  happened  that  the  old  negro  I  spoke  to,  said 
he  lived  in  Georgetown,  and  I  liked  his  appear- 
ance. It  turned  out  afterward  that  he  was  a  great 
friend  of  Mammy's,  and  those  two  old  coloured  peo- 
ple had  been  praying  for  my  return  all  those  years. 
Don't  you  see  now  what  Mammy  means  by  my 
being  led?" 

"I  do,"  said  Bettie,  promptly.  "And  I  believe 
you  were,  Angela." 

"  Oh,  how  kind  of  you  to  call  me  Angela ! "  cried 
the  girl. 

"  I  forgot !  "  confessed  Bettie,  blushing.  "  It 
seemed  so  natural,  it  just  slipped  out,' 

Ayres  turned  a  look  so  full  of  gratitude  upon 
his  mother  that  her  colour  deepened  still  more. 
Mrs.  Arbuthnot  was  beautiful  when  she  blushed. 

"We'll  all  call  you  Angela,  if  you  like,"  said 
Midge.  "Won't  we  Daddy?" 


THE    ATOM    AND    THE    POWERS     169 

"  If  she  wishes,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot.  "  She  will 
flatter  us,  if  she  allows  it,  in  this,  our  first  visit 
from  her." 

"  I  should  be  so  glad  if  you  would,"  said  the  girl, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other,  with  eyes  dewy  with 
feeling. 

"  Well,  go  on — Angela ! "  cried  Midge.  "  It's  the 
most  exciting  thing  I  ever  heard  in  my  life.  After 
this  old  man  took  you  in  his  hack,  what  happened 
then?" 

"Well,  after  we  had  gone  a  few  miles,  I  asked 
him  if  he  knew  the  old  Yorke  place,  somewhere 
near  Georgetown,  thinking  of  course  that  I  would 
have  to  hunt  a  long  time  for  it.  He  said  he  knew 
right  well  where  it  was.  At  first,  I  am  sure  that 
it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  suspect  who  I  was,  for 
I  had  on  a  brown  wig — you  remember  it,  Mr.  Pat- 
rick?— then  he  began  to  look  around  at  me,  but 
always  the  colour  of  my  hair  puzzled  and  threw 
him  off  the  scent.  For  while  the  dear  old  soul 
was  always  expecting  an  answer  to  his  prayers,  he 
was  looking  for  a  red-haired  answer!" 

"  Eed !  "  exclaimed  Midge.  "  Your  hair  is  the 
most  glorious  auburn  I  ever  saw !  " 

"  It  is  like  burnished  bronze !  "  said  Bettie. 

"  It  is  like  Aurora's  gold ! "  said  Ayres. 

Angela's  face  flushed  delicately,  but  her  eyes 
glowed  with  feeling  as  these,  the  first  sweet  words 
of  honest  battery  from  her  own  kind,  fell  upon  her 
ear. 

But  Midge  cut  short  her  pleasure  in  it  by  urging 
her  to  continue. 

"  Get  on  with  your  story,  Angela ! "  she  cried. 
"  Unless  you  want  me  to  burst !  You  found  your 
mother,  of  course.  What  does  she  look  like? 
Have  you  a  photograph  of  her?  Does  she  look 
like  you?" 


170  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  Midge !  Midge ! "  said  Bettie,  vaguely.  Secretly 
she  was  as  impatient  as  her  daughter. 

Angela  controlled  herself  by  an  effort.  Slowly 
she  drew  an  exquisite  miniature  from  her  bodice 
and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Arbuthnot.  It  was  painted 
on  ivory  and  set  in  pearls  and  diamonds. 

Bettie  drew  a  long  breath  and  glanced  at  her 
husband,  with  one  of  the  understanding  looks 
which  pass  between  husband  and  wife  who  possess 
a  spiritual  comprehension  of  each  other's  secret 
thoughts. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  face — a  rarely  lovely  face !  " 
she  said,  handing  it  to  Midge,  who  gazed  at  it 
eagerly,  uttering  incoherent  exclamations  of  ap- 
preciation. Thus  it  passed  from  hand  to  hand, 
until  it  reached  Ayres. 

He  took  it  absently,  his  eyes  expectantly  fixed 
on  Angela's  face.  He  knew  that  something  was 
coming  from  her  tense  look. 

"  I  found  her,"  she  said,  directly  to  him,  as  if 
answering  the  sympathy  in  his  steady  eyes,  "  com- 
pletely paralysed,  with  a  body  quite  dead.  Only 
her  brain  lives.  It  happened  the  night  I  was 
stolen !  " 

For  a  moment,  horror  held  everyone  silent.  Then 
Ayres  struck  the  table  with  his  clenched  fist. 

"  God ! "  he  cried. 

Angela's  lips  trembled,  but  she  controlled  her- 
self. Midge  and  Bettie  were  weeping  openly.  Mr. 
Arbuthnot  reached  out  and  covered  Angela's  hand 
with  his  own,  which  trembled  visibly. 

"  My  poor  child ! "  he  said  kindly,  whereupon 
Bettie  jumped  up  and  ran  around  the  table  to 
Angela's  side.  She  threw  her  arms  around  the 
girl  and  drew  her  head  back  until  it  rested  upon 
Bettie's  shoulder. 


"  Poor  little  girl ! "  she  said.  "  What  a  child 
you  are,  to  have  suffered  so  much ! " 

Angela,  who  had  felt  no  woman's  arms  around 
her  since  she  bade  good-bye  to  her  dear  Soeur  Mar- 
the,  impulsively  reached  up  and  kissed  Bettie,  who 
again  caressed  her  and  then  went  back  to  her 
chair. 

"Mother  knew  me  instantly,"  resumed  Angela. 
"And  so  did  Mammy,  by  some  little  marks,  and 
then  my  baby  looks.  Mammy  says  I  haven't 
changed  much.  Mother  is  wonderful,  Mrs.  Ar- 
butlmot,  for  in  spite  of  everything,  she  has  kept 
her  reason.  She  can  move  her  eyes,  and  we  hold 
conversations  with  each  other — I,  asking  questions 
and  she,  answering  with  her  eyes.  In  this  way  she 
says  she  has  held  onto  her  reason,  knowing  that  I 
would  come  back  some  day,  and  that  I  would  find 
my  father!" 

"  Then  you  believe  he  is  not  dead ! "  said  Mr. 
Arbuthnot. 

"My  mother  knqws  he  is  alive.  How,  I  do  not 
know.  But  she  never  admits  that  he  can  be  dead. 
She  thinks  that  he  is  kept  a  prisoner  by  Kalph 
Frobisher  and  his  minions." 

A  short  silence  ensued,  in  which  the  thoughts  of 
all  raced  back  along  the  vista  Angela's  last  remark 
opened  up. 

"  Of  course  Ralph  Frobisher  personally  did  not 
abduct  you,"  said  Ayres,  presently.  "Has  your 
mother  any  idea  who  really  did  the  stealing?  Did 
she  see  him  or  them?" 

"Indeed  she  did!"  cried  Angela.  "And  I  be- 
lieve that  I  myself  have  seen  him  twice.  Once  I 
saw  him  at  St.  Ursula's.  And  once,  here  in  New 
York,  I  have  met  him,  face  to  face.  Would  you 
know  whom  I  mean  if  I  should  tell  you  that  mother 


172  ANGEMfS   QUEST 

and  Soeur;31artneibbtli" 'say  that-  He  lias  Chinese 
eyes?  " 

"  Marvin  Cray !  ^hquted  Alan'Patrick.  "  I  knew 
it!  I  always  knew  that  fellow  was  a  skunk!.  Gee! 
If  they  will  only  catch  him.  too!  -Lord!  If  they 
only  can!  But  he  is  as  slippery  as  an  eel !  " 

The  three  men  at  the  table  looked  at  each  other, 
with  the  same  thought  in  their  minds.  The  law 
was  so  helpless  against  the  millions  of  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher,  that  unless  other  millions  were  summoned 
by  the  opposition,  these  criminals  were  more  than 
likely  to  go  scot  free.  Already  the  District  Attor- 
ney had  been  the  subject  of  a  number  of  sharp 
newspaper  attacks  by  reason  of  his  remarkable  de- 
lays in  prosecuting  this  man.  Indeed  it  was 
openly  stated  that  he  had  gone  before  the  Grand 
Jury  and  argued  that  there  was  insufficient  evi- 
dence to  indict.  Nevertheless  they  had  returned  in- 
dictments on  over  a  hundred  different  counts,  and 
more  were  promised.  Angela's  story,  so  quietly 
told,  of  the  grave  wrongs  her  family  had  suffered  by 
means  of  this  man's  insane  lust  of  power,  brought 
home  to  them  a  realising  sense  of  its  destroying  po- 
tency, and  the  desire  to  enlist  personally  in  the  cam- 
paign to  bring  this  criminal  to  justice,  was  born  in 
the  minds  of  all  who  listened.  There  and  then,  had 
Angela  only  realised  the  enormous  power  of  the 
Arbuthnot  wealth,  the  success  of  her  endeavours 
became  assured. 

Nothing  definite  was  said  at  the  moment,  al- 
though everyone  felt  the  tension. 

"You  met  him  at  the  Frobishers'  the  other 
night!"  cried  Midge.  "  Ayres  said  he  was  there! 
Did  he  recognise  you?  Did  he  suspect  you?  How 
did  he  act?  If  I'd  been  in  your  place,  Angela,  I'd 
have  shrieked  or  swooned!  How  could  you  stand 
it?" 


"Well,  your  brother  came  up  just  at  the  same 
moment,"  said  Angela,  innocently,  "and  the  very 
sight  of  him  seemed  to  steady  me.  I  think  Mr. 
Cray  was  much  agitated.  He  stammered  out  some- 
thing about  how  I  reminded  him  of  somebody  he 
had  thought  dead,  and  then  tried  to  laugh  it  off, 
because  his  wife  was  watching  his  excitement,  with 
the  queerest  look  of  sudden  suspicion — no — un- 
derstanding— on  her  face.  It  was  just  as  though 
her  suspicions  had  been  unexpectedly  corrobo- 
rated." 

Bettie  nodded. 

"I  know  what  you  mean.  I  have  known  Erne- 
lie  since  she  was  a  child,  and  I  never  could  under- 
stand her  marriage  to  Marvin  Cray.  But  then," 
she  added,  "  I  never  can  understand  why  anybody 
marries  the  way  they  do ! " 

"  I  have  always  felt  that  the  Cray  marriage  was 
a  mistake  and  would  end  in  disaster,"  said  Mr. 
Arbuthnot.  "  Emelie  is  a  very  superior  woman." 

"But  she  hadn't  exactly  waked  up  when  she 
married,"  added  Bettie.  "  Her  girlhood  was  spent 
in  a  dream  of  unreality.  Poor  thing! " 

"Marvin  adores  her,"  said  Ayres. 

"  I  know.  But  that  won't  help  when  the  crash 
comes.  It  will  only  make  it  worse,"  said  his 
mother. 

"  Angela,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  leaning  forward 
and  tapping  his  hand  with  his  gold-rimmed  eye- 
glasses, "  what  is  your  theory  of  the  reason  for 
your  abduction  and  all  that  has  happened  to  your 
family?  Have  you  and  your  mother  any  facts  to 
go  on?" 

"  Not  one,  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  except  that  a  box  of 
valuable  papers  was  stolen  the  same  night  I  was 
kidnapped,  containing  every  clue  my  mother  pos- 
sessed. It  stripped  me  of  every  possible  aid." 


174  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  I  see !  Well,  my  child,  I  have  some  light  to 
throw  upon  the  subject  from  personal  knowledge. 
I  once  knew  your  father ! " 

"  You  knew  him !  "  cried  Angela.  She  straight- 
ened herself  in  her  chair  and  stared  hard  at  Mr. 
Arbuthnot,  as  if  she  could  not  believe  her  ears. 

"  And  I  knew  it  all  the  time,  and  I  didn't  tell !  " 
cried  Midge,  bouncing  up  and  down  in  her  chair 
like  a  small  rubber  ball. 

"  He  came  to  me  about  twelve  years  ago  with  a 
marvellous  invention,  destined  to  revolutionise  the 
hemp  business,  and  told  me  that  the  machine  for 
producing  it  was  in  the  hands  of  a  personal  friend 
of  his,  Marvin  Cray,  who  was  to  put  it  up  to  Ralph 
Frobisher.  I  examined  into  the  matter  thoroughly, 
told  your  father  I  would  contract  for  all  the  fibre 
he  could  turn  out  for  three  years  at  double  what  I 
was  then  paying  for  Manila,  and  your  father  left 
my  office,  much  encouraged,  and  promising  to  re- 
turn and  complete  the  deal.  I  never  saw  him. 
again!  My  theory  is  that  when  he  reported  the 
result  of  the  interview  to  Cray  and  it  reached  Fro- 
bisher's  ears,  he  simply  put  your  father  away 
somewhere — possibly  cast  him  into  prison,  or 

"  An  insane  asylum !  "  whispered  Angela.  "  I 
have  thought  of  that  often ! " 

"  But  how  could  such  an  awful  thing  happen  to 
a  perfectly  sane  man?"  cried  Bettie,  horror- 
stricken  at  the  thought. 

"Mother,"  said  Ayres,  "it  is  my  opinion  that 
there  is  not  an  asylum  for  the  insane  anywhere  in 
the  world,  which  does  not  contain  at  least  one  per- 
fectly sane  man  or  woman,  who  has  been  placed 
there  by  the  power  of  money  alone ! " 

"You're  dead  right  there,  kid,"  said  Alan  Pat- 
rick. "  It  gives  me  the  horrors  to  go  near  a  bug- 
house just  for  that  very  reason !  " 


THE   ATOM   AND   THE    POWERS       175 

"  But  why,  why  should  even  a  man  like  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher  want  to  suppress  my  father's  invention?  I 
don't  know  much  about  business,  but  if  it  was  a 
thing  wonderful  enough  for  you  to  value  it  so 
highly,  why  wouldn't  it  have  been  worth  just  as 
much  to  him?  He  was  then  president  of  the  Cen- 
tral National  Hemp  Company,  wasn't  he?" 

"He  was,  but  twelve  years  ago  he  was  not  the 
possessor  of  so  many  millions  as  he  is  now,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Arbuthnot,  "  In  fact,  he  was  at  a  criti- 
cal point  in  his  career.  He  had  just  launched  out 
in  the  insurance  business,  consolidating  three  large 
companies.  He  had  just  looted  the  Southwestern 
and  Texarkana  Railroad  and  bought  it  in,  and 
contracted  to  extend  it  until  it  met  his  Western 
system,  and  he  had  no  large  amount  of  money  to 
invest.  This  may  sound  inexplicable  to  you,  but 
as  Ralph  Frobisher  never  plays  an  honest  game, 
I  suppose  the  idea  of  accepting  your  father's  prop- 
osition of  paying  him  a  royalty  on  his  machines 
and  a  fair  profit  on  his  raw  fibre,  never  occurred 
to  him.  If  he  could  not  steal  the  invention  and 
buy  up  thousands  of  acres  of  banana  trees,  thus 
reaping  the  lion's  share,  why — he  would  simply 
devise  a  way  to  sweep  the  inventor,  whose  inven- 
tion menaced  him,  off  the  earth." 

"  Fibre !  Banana  trees !  "  repeated  Angela. 
"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Why,  my  child,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  "  do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  you  and  your  mother  know 
nothing  of  your  father's  invention?" 

"  If  my  mother  does,  please  remember  that  she 

has  no  way  of  telling  me.     She  can  only  answer 

my  questions,  and  7  am  quite  in  ignorance  of  it. 

Mammy  doesn't  know  either.     I  have  spent  hours 

—yes,  days,  trying  to  find  out!  v 

A  yres  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  drew; 


176  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

out  the  sample  of  long,  silky  white  fibre  his  father 
had  found  in  his  safe.  He  handed  it  across  the 
table  to  Angela,  saying: 

"  Bead  the  tag  on  it,  please ! " 

"  '  From  the  plantation  of  Angela  Cravanath, 
Hermosillo,  Estrellada,' '  read  Angela  aloud. 
"  *  Of  Angela  Cravanath ! '  Why,  that  must  mean 
me.  Can  it  be  my  plantation?" 

"  Then  your  mother's  name  is  not  Angela? " 
asked  Ayres,  with  the  same  tense  look  in  his  eyes, 
which  always  appeared  whenever  this  subject  en- 
tered his  mind.  It  had  almost  come  to  be  an  ob- 
session with  him. 

"No,  my  mother's  name  is  Juanita." 

"Are  you,  then,  of  Spanish  descent? "  asked  Mr. 
Arbuthnot. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Angela.  "  Remember 
that  I  am  almost  as  much  in  ignorance  of  who  and 
what  I  am  as  you  are.  Mammy  calls  mother  i  Miss 
Nita,'  and  her  lingerie  is  marked  '  J.  L.  C.,'  and 
only  by  finding  her  name  written  in  the  Bible,  did 
I  chance  on  the  whole  name,  Juanita." 

"Probably,  then,  this  plantation  is  yours,  de- 
scended to  you  through  your  mother's  relatives, 
who  possibly  were  once  Spanish,  either  by  birth 
or  marriage,  and  if  it  were  yours,  that  would  give 
a  reasonable  motive  on  Mr.  Frobisher's  part  for 
your  abduction,  which  has  puzzled  me,"  said  Mr. 
Arbuthnot.  "  Ayres,  son,  doesn't  it  strike  you  that 
it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  for  you  to  take  a 
run  down  to  Estrellada  and  see  what  you  can 
discover?" 

"  I  am  sure  it  would,  sir,"  answered  the  younger 
man.  "  I  would  have  gone  before,  only  there  is  a 
man  I  have  been  rather  interested  in,  who  has  just 
come  from  Estrellada,  and  who  is  dead  sore  on 
Ralph  Frobisher.  I  have  invited  him  to  the  smoker 
the  boys  are  going  to  give  to-morrow  night.  After 


THE   ATOM   AND   THE    POWERS       177 

that  I  will  be  ready  to  go  at  almost  any  old 
time." 

"Where  is  Estrellada?"  asked  Bettie.  "And 
what  is  it?  A  country  or  an  island?" 

"  It  is  an  island  in  the  South  Atlantic — off  the 
coast  of  Central  America,"  answered  her  son. 

"  Oh,  Ayres,"  cried  Midge,  "  I  wish  I  could  go 
with  you ! " 

"  Well,  you  can't,  kid,"  replied  her  brother.  "  If 
Don  Rafael  is  the  kind  of  huckleberry  I  think  he 
is,  Estrellada  and  the  mare's  nest  I  may  find  there, 
will  be  no  place  for  little  girls!  " 

Bettie  looked  up  suddenly.  Then  she  exclaimed 
at  the  sight  of  Angela's  paleness : 

"Child,  this  has  been  too  much  for  you!  We 
have  been  thoughtless.  Angela,  you  look  quite 
done  up!  You  must  come  and  rest.  Could  you 
manage  to  stay  all  night,  if  you  telephone?" 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  answered  Angela,  grate- 
fully, "but  I  really  think — while  I  would  love  to 
stay,  you  understand — that  it  would  look  too 
marked.  Such  a  sudden  intimacy  might  arouse 
their  suspicions,  and  I  have  gone  through  too  much 
to  dare  to  risk  such  a  catastrophe,  even  for  so  great 
a  pleasure ! " 

"  She's  right ! "  cried  Midge.  "  It  looks  bad.  She 
must  go  back  and  play  the  part.  Oh,  Angela, 
what  fun !  I  feel  just  as  if  I  were  in  a  book,  and 
when  you  opened  its  pages — bang* — there  you 
would  see  Midge  Arbuthnot  right  under  the 
reader's  nose ! " 

"  I  rather  think,"  said  Bettie,  drawing  Angela's 
hand  through  her  arm,  and  leading  the  way  to  the 
library,  "  that  if  that  is  so,  I  will  write  a  chapter 
myself,  after  a  while.  Angela,  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  more  about  your  dear  mother.  Her  bravery 
and  patience  all  these  weary  years  wring  my 
very  heart." 


CHAPTER    XX 

HUSBAND  AND  WIFE 

It  was  not  the  custom  of  Emelie  Cray  to  drive 
through  the  streets  with  the  light  burning  in  her 
electric  brougham.  But  on  the  way  home  from 
the  Frobisher  dinner,  she  was  curious  to  watch  the 
expression  on  her  husband's  face. 

If  he  ever  drank  too  much,  she  would  have  sus- 
pected that  this  was  an  occasion,  for  she  had  never 
seen  his  manner  so  abnormal  as  it  was  after  the 
two  men  had  joined  the  others  in  the  over-deco- 
rated, over-furnished  drawing-room  of  the  Fro- 
bishers.  Mrs.  Cray  had  been  conscious  that  some 
unusual  complication  had  come  up,  for  no  one 
could  mistake  the  glances  of  fear  and  hate  wThich 
flashed  between  Ralph  Frobisher  and  Marvin  Cray 
as  they  pitted  their  will-power,  one  against  the 
other,  in  their  mental  battle. 

However,  little  was  said  between  the  husband 
and  wife  until  they  reached  home. 

Marvin  Cray  had  the  uneasy  sense  that  his  wife's 
suspicions  had  been  aroused,  and,  little  as  he  cared 
to  have  the  subject  opened,  yet  he  could  not  keep 
away  from  it  or  her.  He  kept  coming  into  her 
sitting-room,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  until  she 
saw  that  he  was  afraid  of  her.  That  brought  mat- 
ters to  a  head,  for  a  woman  would  not  be  a  woman, 
if  she  did  not  know  instinctively  that  no  man  is 
afraid  of  his  wife,  who  has  not  a  guilty  conscience 
on  some  counts. 

Emelie  Cray  abhorred  wordy  quarrels,  and  pos- 
sibly even  then  the  evil  moment  would  have  been 

178 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  179 

postponed,  had  not  the  mother  gone  again  into  the 
nursery. 

It  joined  her  bedroom,  and  in  it,  close  by  the 
lace-trimmed  crib,  was  the  trained  nurse,  Miss 
Emery,  who  cared,  for  the  baby  at  night.  She  was 
accustomed  to  see  the  figure  of  this  mother,  mov- 
ing like  a  shadow  from  the  doorway  to  bend  over 
the  sleeping  child,  at  any  hour  of  the  night.  She 
seldom  spoke,  for  there  were  no  questions  to  ask, 
therefore  no  answers  could  be  of  interest.  The 
baby  could  not  move,  could  not  cry,  could  show  no 
sign  of  life  except  that  she  could  swallow  the  food 
given  her,  and  could  sleep. 

The  last  time  there  had  been  a  consultation  of 
physicians,  the  most  famous  baby  specialist  had 
mustered  up  courage  to  tell  the  mother  that  the 
most  merciful  thing  which  could  happen,  would 
be  for  the  end  to  come  quickly,  for  with  sight  and 
hearing  both  gone,  even  if  the  child  lived,  she 
would  have  no  mind. 

Such  a  blow  would  have  prostrated  most  women, 
but  it  simply  awoke  Emelie  Cray.  At  this  verdict, 
she  felt  the  last  bond  snap  which  held  her  spiritual 
sense  in  thrall,  and  a  new  and  vital  force  took 
possession  of  her. 

Dr.  Fitzjames,  who  was  noted,  for  possessing  a 
rather  sensitive  professional  vanity,  was  not  even 
annoyed  when  she  gravely  contradicted  him. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  doctor,"  she  said  quietly, 
"  although  I  admit  your  wisdom  and  skill.  There 
is  no  reason  for  my  child  to  die,  and  I  know  of  a 
very  good  reason  why  I  believe  she  will  live." 

Something  seemed  to  leap  from  this  mother's 
soul  into  her  eyes,  and  shine  out  with  the  pure  and 
holy  belief  of  an  infinite  Truth,  for  the  man  looked 
at  her  for  a  moment,  surprised  both  by  her  self- 
control  and  possibly  a  little  shamed  by  her  faith, 


180  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

for  he  suddenly  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  saying 
heartily : 

"  I  hope  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  that  I  am 
mistaken,  Mrs.  Cray!  No  one  will  be  more  glad 
than  I  to  be  proved  wrong  in  this  case.  Let  us 
hope  for  the  best." 

Emelie  had  not  told  her  husband,  either  of  this 
final  consultation  nor  the  doctor's  verdict 

There  had  never  been  any  of  those  spontaneous 
moments  of  quick  confession  and  irresistible  con- 
fidence between  these  two,  which  most  husbands 
and  wives  know,  either  at  first  through  being  in 
love,  or  later,  when  brought  close  together  by  grief. 
Instead,  each  hid  his  deeper  experiences,  and  their 
minds  touched  only  on  trivialities. 

It  was  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  yet 
Marvin  Cray  still  stood  by  the  mantel,  leaning  his 
head  on  his  arm  and  looking  at  the  open  fire  of 
driftwood  which  always  in  winter  blazed  in  this 
room  of  a  woman's  individuality. 

This  man,  albeit  of  a  low  order  of  spiritual 
equipment,  incapable  of  understanding  or  follow- 
ing his  wife's  lead,  always  felt  the  mental  atmos- 
phere of  this  room  to  be  subtly  different  from  any- 
thing else  in  the  house  or  in  his  crafty  life.  His 
one  redeeming  quality  was  his  passionate  idolatry 
of  this  woman's  purity  and  calibre. 

He  heard  the  sound  of  a  softly  closed  door  and 
the  rustle  of  her  garments  as  she  returned  from  the 
nursery.  He  lifted  his  head  and  looked  at  her 
adoringly  out  of  his  beady  eyes. 

Instead  of  pausing,  as  usual,  some  distance  from 
him,  she  came  close  and  the  two  faced  each  other, 
across  the  gleaming  firelight,  the  man's  gaze,  shift- 
ing and  timid,  the  woman's  searching  and  ac- 
cusing. 

"Dr.  Fitzjames  has  been  here  again  in  consul- 


HUSBAND    AND   WIFE  181 

tation,  Marvin,"  she  said,  speaking  more  rapidly 
than  usual.  "  Do  you  know  what  he  said?" 

The  man  swallowed  painfully  and  shook  his 
head,  without  answering.  He  cared  nothing  for 
children  in  general,  an4  little  for  his  own  baby 
girl,  except  inasmuch  as  she  could  cause  his  wife 
suffering.  To  avoid  that,  he  would  have  avowed 
anything,  professed  anything,  confessed  anything. 
He  nerved  himself  to  listen  with  a  show  of  interest. 

"He  said  that  the  best  thing  which  could  hap- 
pen to  little  Olive  would  be  for  her  to — to  die! 
He  says  that  even  if  she  lives,  she  will  be — she  will 
be — no,  no !  I  cannot  speak  the  word !  " 

She  bowed  her  head  and  deep  sobs  shook  her 
whole  frame. 

Her  husband  shivered  at  the  sound  of  her  weep- 
ing, and  started  toward  her,  his  first  impulse  to 
take  her  into  his  arms  and  comfort  her.  Then 
some  instinct  stopped  him. 

"  Don't  cry,  Emelie ! "  he  said  beseechingly. 
"  Perhaps  he  is  wrong.  Doctors  don't  know  every- 
thing!" 

His  wife  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  they  don't.  Possibly  he  is  mis- 
taken. I  believe  he  is.  But  there  is  no  mistaking 
the  fact  that  our  baby — our  first  little  baby — is 
lying  in  there,  motionless,  helpless,  scarcely  alive! 
What  brought  such  a  blow  on  us?  What  caused 
it?  Why  was  she  turned  from  a  little,  laughing, 
crowing,  happy,  intelligent  baby  into  nothing  but 
an  inert  mass?  I  tell  you  I  believe  it  is  a  judg- 
ment on  us!  I  have  been  struck  in  the  tenderest 
and  most  vulnerable  part  of  my  heart-life,  and  I 
am  afraid  it  must  be  to  punish  me  for  my  sins!  " 

Emelie  had  expected  some  sign  of  emotion  from 
her  husband,  but  she  was  unprepared  for  the  con- 
tortion of  his  face  or  the  vehemence  of  his  manner, 


182  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

as  she  thus  took  all  the  blame  on  her  own  shoul- 
ders. 

"  Your  sins ! "  he  cried,  hoarsely.  "  Yours!  You 
are  as  white  as  snow !  You  never  did  a  wrong  act 
nor  thought  a  wrong  thought  in  all  your  beautiful 
life!  What  are  you  talking  about?  What  are  you 
thinking  of?" 

"  I  am  thinking  that  I  did  wrong  to  marry  you 
without  love !  "  she  answered,  quickly.  "  I  know 
you  will  tell  me  that  it  was  your  fault — that  you 
over-persuaded  me !  You  did.  But  only  because  I 
was  weak  and  ignorant,  and  ignorance  is  no  ex- 
cuse. I  was  a  grown  woman.  I  should  have 
known.  And,  as  I  look  back,  I  did  know,  in  a 
vague,  blind  way.  But  I  sinned  against  my  better 
self  while  under  your  influence,  wThich  I  allowed  to 
hypnotise  me.  And  now  I  am  reaping  what  I  have 
sowed." 

"  You  are  doing  nothing  of  the  kind ! "  he  said, 
wildly.  His  shallow  soul  was  always  alarmed 
when  his  wife  spoke  of  such  things.  He  was  un- 
easy, nervous,  frightened.  No  business  problem, 
however  difficult,  no  projected  crime  even,  had 
ever  caused  him  the  pangs  of  terror  that  one  sucli 
conversation  could  produce  in  him.  "  You  mustn't 
talk  that  way.  What  good  can  it  do?  " 

"  It  can  do  this  good ! "  she  said  sternly.  "  If  I 
repent — if  I  see  my  fault — if  I  am  honest  with  you 
and  confess  that  I  do  not  love  you — that  I  never 
have  loved  you — that  I  never  can  love  you,  and  if  I 
leave  you,  taking  baby  and  creeping  away  to  some 
quiet  corner  of  the  world  where  I  can  devote  my- 
self to  her  healing  through  my  new  religion,  then 
I  would  have  my  chance  given  back  to  me !  I  would 
have  repented  of  the  greatest  sin  I  know  of  in  my 
own  life,  and  made  the  only  reparation  I  know 
how!" 


HUSBAND   AND    WIFE  183 

In  her  excitement  she  was  swept  out  of  herself. 
When  her  husband's  groan  of  agony  recalled  her, 
his  appearance  was  a  shock.  His  face  was  dark 
red,  his  eyes  bloodshot,  the  cords  of  his  neck  stood 
out,  and  his  whole  body  was  trembling. 

"  Leave  me ! "  he  said,  thickly.  "  Go  away  from 
me,  where  I  could  never  see  you  again?  Never 
touch  you  again?  Never  hear  the  sound  of  your 
voice?  Do  you  want  to  kill  me,  Emelie?  " 

"  No,  no !  Marvin !  Don't  think  that  I  believe 
you  would  not  suffer.  I  know  you  love  me,  but 
if  I  don't  love  you  as  a  wife  should " 

"  Is  there  another  man?"  he  interrupted,  taking 
a  sudden  step  toward  her. 

She  recoiled  in  horror. 

"  Another  man!  "  she  said.  "  Do  you  believe  me 
capable  of  even  remembering  that  there  are  other 
men  in  the  world,  with  little  Olive  as  she  is?" 

"  No,  no !  I  suppose  not !  Forgive  me !  But 
your  suggestion  of  leaving  me !  Tell  me  you  didn't 
mean  it ! " 

"  But,  Marvin,  if  I  told  you  that  I  believed  that 
to  see  sin  and  repent  of  it,  would  be  the  first  step 
toward  changing  the  terribly  hopeless  fate  which 
threatens  our  child,  wouldn't  you,  for  her  sake,  be 
the  one  to  sacrifice  your  own  feelings  and  tell  me 
to  go?  " 

"  No !  A  thousand  times  no ! "  he  said,  brutally. 
"  No  child  on  earth — nor  forty  of  them — are  worth 
what  you  are  to  me." 

Then  seeing  the  expression  of  her  face,  he  has- 
tened to  add:  "But  if  sin  is  all  you  are  looking 
for,  why  shouldn't  it  be  my  sins  as  well  as  yours? 
Can't  a  father's  sins  be  taken  account  of  just  as 
easily  as  a  mother's?  Suppose  they  are  mine 
which  have  to  be  looked  into  and  atoned  for? 
What  then?" 


184  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

He  was  incited  to  further  efforts  to  divert  her 
thoughts  by  the  change  in  her  expression.  He  had 
secured,  at  least,  her  attention — a  thing,  he  re- 
flected with  chagrin,  that  he  seldom  accomplished. 
She  seemed  to  listen,  so  he  hastened  on: 

"  My  life  has  been  as  black  as  ink,  compared  to 
the  spotlessness  of  yours.  I  have  no  code  of  honour, 
as  you  may  know.  My  motto  has  always  been, 
'  Do  others  before  they  get  a  chance  to  do  you/  I 
have  been  educated  in  a  hard  school  and  by  a  hard 
master." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face. 

"You  mean  Kalph  Frobisher?"  she  asked. 

•He  shifted  from  one  foot  to  the  other  before  he 
answered.  Then  an  angered  recollection  of  that 
gentleman's  last  insulting  words  to  him  inflamed 
his  mind. 

"  Yes,  I  do !  "  he  said,  with  violence.  "  He  has 
made  me  do  all  his  dirty  work.  He  took  me  when 
I  was  a  mere  boy  and  taught  me  his  code.  He  has 
forced  me  to  do  his  will  in  everything.  Thing? 
that  were  too  black  or  too  dangerous  for  him  to 
dare,  he  put  off  on  me.  I  would  have  gone  to  jail 
more  than  once,  if  his  money  had  not  bought  off 
justice ! " 

"  Then  you  have  committed  what  you  knew  were 
actual  crimes,  have  you?"  she  asked. 

Having  begun,  he  rushed  on  blindly,  resolved  at 
least  to  prove  her  absurd  shouldering  of  responsi- 
bility for  baby  Olive's  condition,  false. 

"  Yes,  I  have.  Nothing  that  need  worry  you,  of 
course,  for  my  name  was  never  known  in  connec- 
tion with  them  at  all.  I  was  too  slick  ever  to  get 
caught.  But  the  things  have  been  done,  I  want 
you  to  understand,  and  by  me,  so  if  there  is  any 
truth  in  that  hellish  suggestion  that  one  or  the 
other  of  us  is  to  blame,  it  is  I  and  not  you,  who 
must  pay  the  piper ! " 


HUSBAND  AND   WIFE  185 

His  wife  lowered  her  gaze.  She  did  not  wish  him 
to  see  into  her  eyes.  She  was  ashamed  to  realise 
that  if  all  he  said  were  true,  it  destroyed  her 
chance  of  freedom — her  hope  of  being  able  to  sep- 
arate from  him. — to  leave  a  man  who  had  become 
odious  to  her,  for  the  rearjon  that  she  was  the  sort 
of  woman  who  could  not  bring  herself  to  desert  a 
husband  simply  because  he  was  more  wicked  than 
she  had  thought  when  she  married  him.  If  she 
could  not  find  an  excuse  in  her  own  soul,  as  she 
had  dared  to  hope,  when  she  began  this  conversa- 
tion, she  was  doomed  to  stand  by  him,  to  drag  out 
the  rest  of  her  existence  with  a  man  who  had  not 
only  become  physically  loathsome  to  her,  but  one 
whose  plane  of  thought  she  despised. 

He  paused  and  scanned  her  drooping  face 
eagerly,  disappointed  that  she  did  not  at  once  ac- 
cept his  assurances. 

"  Why,  see  here,  Emelie,  if  you  don't  really  be- 
lieve I  have  done  things  which  are  bad  enough, 
just  let  me  tell  you  some  of  them.  Do  you  remem- 
ber, about  five  years  ago,  the  suit  the  State  brought 
against  the  Bread  Trust?  Well,  it  was  Frobisher 
who  instigated  that  corner.  He  knew  that  while 
people  can  get  along  without  meat,  the  poor  must 
have  bread.  So  he  cornered  wheat,  then  flour, 
then  bread.  You  remember,  don't  you?  The  pa- 
pers raised  a  howl  about  it  and  spent  millions  de- 
picting the  sufferings  of  the  poor.  Well,  some 
little  independent  companies  wouldn't  join  forces 
with  him,  and  he  had  me  hire  men  to  drive  around 
and  run  into  their  wagons,  make  their  teams  run 
away.  I  myself  saw  two  men  killed  by  a  collision 
that  I  had  arranged.  We  poisoned  their  horses. 
We  drove  the  little  bakers  out  of  business.  Women 
came  to  his  office  and  begged  on  their  knees  for  an 
interview  with  him,  to  tell  of  starving  children  at 
home,  and  I  wouldn't  let  them  even  see  him.  I 


180  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

know  of  one  woman  whose  five  children  literally 
starved  to  death.  It  was  the  widow  of  one  of  the 
men  who  was  killed.  Why,  I  could  fill  a  book 
with  the  things  that  man  has  made  me  do — not, 
of  course,  that  I  was  actually  the  one  whose  hands 
were  blood  stained — I  never  really  committed  an 
act  which  was  jailable,  but " 

She  chanced  a  random  shot. 

"How  about  Angela?"  she  said. 

Her  husband  started  and  gazed  at  her  with  an 
ashen  face.  Drops  of  sweat  gathered  on  his  brow, 
and  his  whole  frame  shook. 

"  Wha — what  do  you  know  of  that? "  he  stam- 
mered hoarsely. 

"  I  know  so  much  that  I  want  to  know  more," 
she  said  quietly.  "Suppose  you  tell  me." 

His  Chinese  eyes  at  once  became  inscrutable,  as 
was  their  wont  when  any  danger  menaced.  He 
was  instantly  on  the  alert  and  master  of  himself, 
insomuch  as  he  felt  the  peril  of  his  position.  He 
knew,  as  well  as  anyone,  that  a  confession  of  his 
actual  participation  in  the  crime  of  abduction  was 
to  put  a  rope  around  his  neck  which  his  first  enemy 
could  hang  him  by. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  said.  "  An- 
gela who?  Do  you  mean  Angelica  Frobisher?  " 

"  Her  name  is  Angela,"  answered  his  wife. 
"She  told  me  so,  and  then  corrected  it  hurriedly. 
You  two  have  met  before.  How?  When?  Where? 
You  might  as  well  tell  me ! " 

He  backed  away  from  her.  beating  the  air  with 
his  hands. 

"  If — if  what  you  say  is  true "  he  began. 

"  Stop,  Marvin !  Why  can  you  never  be  ingenu- 
ous with  me?  Why  do  you  always  hedge  and  fence 
and  play  a  part?  This  is  one  time  when  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  know  the  whole  truth." 


HUSBAND   AND   WIFE  187 

Instantly  the  whole  of  his  sinuous  mind  concen- 
trated on  the  complicated  subject.  What  course 
should  he  take?  Throw  himself  heart  and  soul  on 
his  wife's  side,  betray  Ralph  Frobisher,  cut  loose 
from  him  and  so  hold  his  wife,  through  gratitude, 
if  nothing  else?  Or  believe  she  meant  what  she 
said  about  never  loving  him,  in  which  case,  after 
having  put  himself  wholly  at  her  mercy,  she  might 
turn  against  him,  ruin  and  desert  him,  as  count- 
less women  had  ruined  and  deserted  men  in  like 
manner? 

In  addition  to  these  questions  there  was  also 
one  of  equal  moment,  namely,  his  very  immi- 
nent and  deadly  peril,  if  his  own  suspicions 
and  Emelie's  intuitions  were  correct,  and  this  girl 
were  actually  the  child  Angela  Cravanath,  whom, 
ten  years  before,  he  had  personally  kidnapped. 
She  seemed  to  have  recognised  him  in  at  least  as 
much  agitation  as  he  himself  had  shown.  Sup- 
pose it  were  she?  What  then? 

A  cold  sweat  broke  out  all  over  him,  and  he  felt 
the  prison  doors  closing  around  him. 

And  after  all  these  years  of  cheating  justice  by 
means  of  his  diabolically  sinuous  cleverness!  He 
knew — no  one  better — that,  were  he  identified  with 
this  crime,  he  could  count  on  becoming  suddenly 
friendless.  Ralph  Frobisher  would  turn  on  him 
first  of  all,  and  repudiate  all  connection  with  the 
crime.  Nor  could  it  be  traced  to  him! 

In  spite  of  all  Marvin  Cray's  endeavours,  the 
wits  of  Ralph  Frobisher  had  been  too  keen  for  him 
at  every  turn.  There  was  not  a  scrap  of  evidence. 
Not  a  check  had  been  written.  Even  the  cash  sent 
by  express  had  been  drawn  from  Marvin  Cray's 
personal  account  and  shipped  by  him.  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher took  plenty  of  time  to  plan  his  coups,  and 
most  of  it  went  to  covering  his  tracks. 


188  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Cray  knew  this.  He  knew  just  why  Frobisher 
piled  all  the  material  evidence  on  him,  and  he  had 
done  his  best  to  conceal  his  hand  in  the  matter, 
flattering  himself  that  his  work  had  been  well  done 
until  this  moment  of  illumination. 

His  mind  took  in  the  worst  and  moved  with 
lightning  rapidity.  He  decided  that  if  this  were 
indeed  Angela  and  she  had  recognised  him,  there 
was  but  one  thing  to  do.  Throw  himself  upon  his 
wife's  mercy  and  confess  everything. 

He  knew  women  well  enough  to  believe  that  this 
would  make  her  his  ally  for  two  reasons — one  that 
she  would  not  desert  him  in  trouble,  and  the  other, 
her  joy  at  believing  his  confession  a  symptom  of 
the  reform  she  was  anxious  to  bring  about  in  both 
their  lives  for  the  sake  of  the  child. 

He  could  scarcely  repress  a  sardonic  grin  as  this 
last  contingency  flitted  across  his  mind,  but  the 
seriousness  of  the  other  counts  scattered  all  idea 
of  levity  in  its  incipiency. 

He  collected  his  wits  and  faced  his  problem,  de- 
termining to  confess  with  such  an  air  of  candour  all 
that  his  wife  fancied  she  knew,  that  she  would  not 
suspect  that  he  was  keeping  anything  back. 

He  shuddered  when  he  realised  that  Emelie 
would  undoubtedly  take  steps  which  could  not  fail 
to  come  to  Ralph  Frobisher's  ears. 

He  knew  that  he  was  taking  his  life  in  his  hand, 
for  he  believed  that  Frobisher  would  kill  him,  or 
cause  him  to  be  killed,  in  the  same  mysterious  yet 
natural  manner  that  he  had  utilised  in  the  cases 
of  men  who  had  failed  him  or  interfered  with  his 
plans  in  any  way. 

But — he  knew  he  could  hold  his  wife  by  this 
means  and  by  no  other. 

With  this  thought  firmly  in  his  mind,  the  way 
suddenly  became  plain  to  him. 


HUSBAND   AND   WIFE  189 

"  If  a  confession  of  all  my  sins  will  ease  your 
mind,  my  darling,"  he  began  slowly,  "  I  will  dig 
down  into  the  blackest  depths  of  my  past  and  tell 
you  everything.  Only — I  must  know  one  thing  be- 
forehand. If  I  tell  you  everything,  will  you  be  so 
shocked  you  will  revolt  from  me?  I  could  not 
bear  to  lose  you!  I — I  believe  it  would  kill 
me!" 

Emelie's  face  became  illuminated  with  the  look 
of  the  spiritual  enthusiast.  For  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  she  felt  an  actual  tenderness  for  her  hus- 
band. He  was  going  to  confess,  and  in  her  simple 
creed,  confession  spelled  reformation.  If  they 
should  reconstruct  their  lives  together — what  good 
might  not  be  accomplished! 

"  If  you  will  confess  everything  to  me,  Marvin,  I 
can  promise  you,  that  no  matter  what  you  tell  me, 
I  will  not  hold  it  up  against  you,  nor  will  I  ever 
leave  you!  Sincere  repentance  deserves  a  better 
fate  than  that,  even  at  the  hands  of  a  fellow  mor- 
tal, who  might  be  judged  equally  guilty,  albeit  in 
a  different  way !  " 

Her  husband  shifted  his  feet  uneasily,  but  made 
no  direct  reply. 

Suddenly  he  said: 

"What  do  you  suspect  of  this  girl?  Does  she 
seem  to  be  what  she  appears?  " 

"No,  she  does  not!  I  can  never  believe  her  to 
be  any  relation  in  the  world  to  those  Frobishers. 
She  is  miles  removed  from  them  by  birth  and 
breeding.  Not  one  drop  of  their  blood  flows  in 
her  veins.  Then,  too,  she  begged  me  not  to  call 
her  Miss  Frobisher,  but  to  call  her  Angela " 

"  Angela !  "  cried  her  husband.  "  You  mean 
Angelica ! " 

In  spite  of  himself  he  had  hoped  that  this  girl 
might  not  prove  to  be  Angela  Cravanath. 


190  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"No,  she  said  Angela  first,  but  corrected  it  to 
Angelica.  Then  I  overheard  Ayres  talking  to  her 
and  she  said :  '  I  will  tell  you  who  I  am.  and  every- 
thing the  first  opportunity  I  have' — or  something 
like  that.  I  firmly  believe  that  monster,  Ralph 
Frobisher,  is  palming  that  girl  off  as  his  niece  to 
further  some  wricked  crime  of  his  own.  She  is  his 
dupe ! " 

"  No ! "  groaned  her  husband.  "  If  what  you  say 
is  true,  he  is  Tier  dupe.  He  thinks  she  is  his  niece, 
the  daughter  of  a  brother  who  was  killed  in  that 
wreck,  but  she  isn't.  She  is  Angela  Cravanath, 
whose  father,  some  twelve  or  fourteen  years  ago, 
invented  a  machine  for  taking  fibre  from  the  ba- 
nana tree  after  the  fruit  had  been  cut.  This  fibre 
was  so  cheap  to  obtain  and  so  good  that  Frobisher 
thought  it  menaced  Manila  hemp,  for  wrhich  he 
had  a  ten-year  contract,  so  he — he  had  this  man 
adjudged  insane  and  put  in  an  insane  asylum.  He 
railroaded  a  perfectly  sane  man  to  a  madhouse, 
and  compelled  me  to  arrange  everything  connected 
with  it  for  him.  His  hand  never  showed  at  all. 
If  it  ever  should  be  discovered,  my  guilt  could  be 
proved,  but  not  his.  I  was  wrong,  of  course,  to  do 
it,  but — that  was  before  I  met  you ! " 

Craftily,  out  of  his  narrowed,  Mongolian  eyes, 
Marvin  Cray  watched  the  shades  of  varying  emo- 
tions play  over  the  sensitive  face  of  his  wife.  He 
felt  satisfied  to  go  on.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  he  seemed  to  have  interested  her  in  himself, 
his  personality.  With  the  instinct  of  the  true  re- 
former, she  found  a  soul  which  she  felt  was  in  the 
act  of  being  saved  through  confession  and  repent- 
ance. 

"  But  the  child ! »  she  urged.    "  What  of  her?  " 

"An  enormous  estate  on  the  island  of  Estrellada, 
capable  of  producing  the  world's  supply  of  this 
fibre,  had  been  inherited  by  this  child,  descended 


HUSBAND    AND    WIFE  191 

to  tier  through  her  mother's  ancestors,  who  held  it 
under  a  royal  patent.  It  is  immensely  valuable, 
for  much  more  than  the  fibre,  so  it  was  necessary 
to  destroy  the  identity  of  this  child.  Mr.  Frobisher 
claimed  to  be  too  human  to  want  to  kill  her " 

"Kill  her!"  gasped  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  kill  her  I  And  if  he  had,  it  would  not  have 
been  his  first  murder,  Emelie  Cray!  That  man's 
hands  are  stained  with  more  human  blood  than 
has  been  on  the  hands  of  many  a  criminal  who  has 
ended  his  life  in  the  electric  chair.  So,  as  I  say — > 
she  was  hardly  more  than  a  baby,  maybe  five  or 
six  years  old — Frobisher  not  being  willing  to  kill 
her,  he  made  me  kidnap  her " 

To  his  intense  astonishment  he  was  interrupted 
by  an  agonised  shriek  from  his  wife.  She  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands  and  began  weeping 
violently. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  the  matter? "  hie  cried. 
"  Surely  that  was  not  as  bad  as  the  railroading  of 
a  man — an  innocent  man " 

His  wife  lifted  a  white  face  toward  him,  from 
which  blazed  two  accusing  eyes. 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  either  that  unhappy  man 
or  the  poor  child.  I  am  thinking  of  the  wretched 
woman  in  the  case !  That  poor  tortured  wife  and 
mother!  The  losing  of  her  husband  was  bad 
enough,  but  women  bear  those  things.  They  have 
to!  But  to  have  a  child  stolen — not  to  have  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  it  was  dead,  but  to 
draiir  every  hour  of  the  twenty-four,  of  every  drop 
of  anguish  and  uncertainty  and  imagined  dread, 
which  the  wretched  lingering  of  the  hours  can 
hold  for  an  agonised  mother's  heart — that  is  the 
most  fiendishly  cruel  thing  that  one  mortal  can 
enact  against  another.  Murder  is  an  unmitigated 
blessing  compared  to  it!  And  to  think  that  you — - 
you • 


192  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

• 

"That  was  years  before  I  knew  you,  Emelie! 
And  you  know  that  I  was  a  wretched,  untaught 
sinner  until  you  came  and  rescued  me!" 

But  still  she  turned  her  face  from  him. 

"  The  child  was  well  cared  for.  I  put  her  into 
the  special  care  of  the  Mother  Superior  of  St.  Ur- 
sula's, and  Mr.  Frobisher  gave  thousands  of  dol- 
lars to  them  as  conscience  money,  besides  sending 
two  hundred  dollars  a  month  to " 

"What  became  of  the  mother?"  interrupted  his 
wife,  showing  that  she  had  scarcely  listened. 

"  She  became  paralysed  by  the  shock,  and  has 
never  left  her  wheeled  chair  from  that  day  to  this. 
I  doubt  if  she  is  alive  now.  Probably  she  did  not 
suffer  long.  Her  mind  must  have  given  way  be- 
fore this,  so — my  God !  What  have  I  done !  Emelie ! 
My  wife!  Look  up!  Don't " 

He  broke  off  and  rushed  to  the  door  of  the  nur- 
sery. 

"  Miss  Emery !  Come  quick !  My  wife  has 
fainted ! " 

When,  an  hour  later,  he  was  allowed  to  come  in 
and  speak  to  his  wife  and  to  reassure  himself  that 
she  was  herself  again,  he  tried  to  ignore  the  cause 
of  her  fainting,  but  she  reverted  to  it,  with  unusual 
firmness. 

"  No,  Marvin,"  she  said.  "  Let  me  speak.  These 
sins  of  yours  have  now  come  to  the  surface.  They 
have  been  hidden  long  enough.  Surely  you  your- 
self can  see  that  with  two  dreadful  warnings  of 
the  same  sort,  you  know  what  you  must  do !  Surely 
you  see!" 

The  bewildered  man,  without  an  inkling  of  spir- 
itual understanding,  felt  that  he  must  go  warily. 

"If  you  would  only  tell  me  what  you  think !  "  he 
pleaded.  "  You  see  so  much  further  than  I  do ! " 

"Atonement!"  cried  his  wife  fervently. 


HUSBAND    AND   WIFE  193 

'"Whatever  you  say  I  will  do!"  "he  declared. 
"You  arrange  what  you  want  me  to  do,  and  Til 
do  it!" 

He  had  the  sinking  sensation  of  a  man  about  to 
drown  in  a  sea  of  goodness. 

His  wife  looked  up  at  him,  with  a  smile. 

"  There  is  much  good  in  you,  Marvin,  after  all ! " 
she  said  gently.  "  We  must  take  plenty  of  time  to 
decide  what  is  the  right  thing  to  do." 

When  he  had  kissed  her  good-night  and  left  the 
room,  he  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  wiped  the 
sweat  from  his  brow. 

Once  before  he  had  experienced  this  same  sen- 
sation of  relief  from  immediate  peril.  It  was 
when  he  wakened  after  dreaming  that  he  was  join- 
ing the  church. 


On  the  morning  after  the  smoker,  at  which  Don 
Kafael  de  Hermosillo,  of  Hermosillo,  Estrellada, 
had  been  the  guest  of  Ayres  Arbuthnot,  the  Span- 
ish gentleman  awoke  with  the  uneasy  feeling,  very 
new  to  one  of  his  diplomacy  and  craft,  that  a  hu- 
man corkscrew  had  been  inserted  into  his  brain 
and  all  its  precious  secrets  drawn  out. 

He  thought  the  matter  over  carefully  then 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  After  all,  what  does  it  matter?  "  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  I  came  up  to  this  abominable  country  espe- 
cially to  tell  the  leader  of  a  pack  of  wolves  what  I 
intended  to  do,  in  case  he  does  not  redeem  his 
promise  to  me.  What  is  the  difference  if  the  lieu- 
tenant-wolf got  my  ultimatum  before  the  captain- 
wolf?  It  is  all  one ! " 

At  the  same  moment  the  lieutenant-wolf  was 
cudgeling  his  brains  to  know  what  to  do  with  his 
new-found  knowledge. 

To  many,  the  information  he  had  secured  would 
have  appeared  insignificant,  but,  taken  together 
with  everything  else  that  Ayres  knew,  it  seemed  to 
bear  strongly  on  the  Cravanath  case. 

But  it  pointed  inexorably  to  the  greatest  stum- 
bling block  which  had  hitherto  appeared  in  the 
young  man's  path,  and  that  was*  how  to  obtain 
access  to  Ralph  Frobisher's  private  office  and  ac- 
tually overhear  that  astute  gentleman  in  the  act 
of  setting  his  most  trusted  lieutenants  to  cut  each 

194 


THE   CUB    REPORTER  195 

other's  throats  in  the  blind  belief  that  they  were 
cutting  his. 

This  was  but  a  guess  of  Ayres'.  He  had  studied 
Frobisher's  methods  and  character  carefully,  and 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Frobisher  must 
know  that  his  lieutenants  hated  him.  If  so,  then 
what  was  more  natural  than  that  he  should  en- 
deavour to  trap  each  to  his  own  destruction  by 
deceptive  means? 

After  having  spent  months  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
compass  his  desire,  Ayres  decided  on  a  bold 
method,  and  with  this  in  mind,  he  one  day  handed 
a  note  written  by  himself,  to  Howard  Gallup,  when 
Ayres  made  his  usual  morning  call  at  Frobisher's 
office  for  the  purpose  of  worrying  that  gentleman 
by  the  sight  of  the  cub  reporter  from  The  Blazed 
Trail. 

He  hung  around  until  Gallup  had  had  a  chance 
to  read  his  note,  and  heard  him  say  casually  to  one 
of  the  stenographers: 

"  Miss  O'Shea,  please  have  these  ready  for  me 
when  I  come  in  at  two  o'clock.  I  am  going  to  lunch 
with  a  friend  at  one." 

Whereupon,  without  even  a  look  in  his  direction, 
Ayres  departed. 

When  the  two  young  men  met  in  a  private  room 
at  Ayres'  club,  he  plunged  without  preamble  into 
the  very  heart  of  the  matter. 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  come,  Gallup,  because, 
in  your  official  capacity,  it  is  your  duty  to  distrust 
me.  But  there  are  times  when,  if  two  duties  ap- 
pear to  conflict,  it  is  wise  to  define  them  to  one's 
self." 

"  That  is  why  I  am  here,"  said  Gallup,  drily 

"  Good ! "  exclaimed  Ayres.  "  Well,  1 11  be  brief. 
Do  you  know — do  you  really  know  what  sort  of  a 
man  you  are  working  for?  Do  you  know  what 


196  (  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

> 

sort  of — well,  crimes,  you  are  lending  your  brains 
and  ability  to  furthering?  Tell  me  that  before  we 
talk  cases." 

Gallup  hesitated. 

"  No,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  I  don't  actually  know. 
To  be  honest  with  you,  Arbuthnot,  I  don't  wish  to 
know."  \ 

It  was  Ayres'  turn  to  hesitate. 

"After  that  sentiment,"  he  said  finally,  "under 
some  circumstances,  I  would  not  enlighten  you. 
But  there  are  cleaner  men  to  work  for  than  Ralph 
Frobisher,  and  you  could  find  them." 

"  As  I  am  in  his  employ,  my  duty,  as  I  conceive 
it,  is  to  him,"  said  Gallup,  firmly. 

"  I  know  better  than  to  ask  you  to  betray  his 
trust  by  helping  me  to  trap  him,  while  you  are  in 
his  pay,  and  I  am  frank  to  say  that  I  would  de- 
spise you  if  you  could  be  persuaded.  But  if  I  should 
tell  you  the  specific  crime  I  suspect  him  of,  wThich 
I  am  determined  to  fasten  on  him,  would  you  be 
man  enough  to  leave  his  service  to  help  me,  pro- 
vided my  case  were  sufficiently  flagrant  to  war- 
rant such  a  sacrifice  on  your  part?" 

"  You  would  have  to  make  out  a  good  case,"  said 
Gallup. 

"But  if  the  case  were  good  enough?"  urged 
Ayres,  eagerly. 

"Arbuthnot,  I  couldn't  have  watched  your  per- 
sistence and  your  earnestness  all  these  months 
without  believing  in  your  honesty.  That  is  why  I 
am  here,"  said  Gallup. 

"  Good !  "  cried  Ayres.  "  Listen  to  me  for  five 
minutes  and  Ralph  Frobisher  will  be  short  a  sec- 
retary before  the  week  is  out.  About  twelve  years 
ago  a  man  came  to  my  father  with  an  invention — * 
a  wonderful  substitute  for  Manila  hemp.  Father 
agreed  to  take  his  entire  output  and,  during  the 


THE   CUB    REPORTER  197 

interview,  he  learned  that  the  drawings  for  the 
machines  to  manufacture  it  were  in  Frobisher's 
possession.  That  man  never  came  back.  He  dis- 
appeared from  the  face  of  the  earth.  His  wife  fled 
in  terror  to  a  remote  place,  where  she  and  her 
child  hid  themselves  for  two  or  three  years.  The 
plantation  which  produced  the  raw  material  was 
in  Estrellada — an  inheritance  of  the  child's.  The 
child  was  kidnapped  and  placed  in  a  Catholic 
foundling's  home,  where  she  remained  ten  years. 
sShe  was  carefully  educated,  however,  and  remem- 
bered more  than  they  suspected.  Finally  she  per- 
suaded one  of  the  sisters  to  help  her  to  escape,  and 
with  only  her  lost  name  and  the  most  meagre  di- 
rections, she  found  her  way  back  home,  only  to  dis- 
cover that  the  shock  of  her  abduction  had  paralysed 
her  mother.  Both  the  young  girl  and  the  mother 
believe  the  husband  and  father  to  be  alive.  They 
believe  that  Marvin  Cray  and  Frobisher  have  him 
in  some  asylum  or  jail.  I  had  this  man  Don  Rafael 
de  Hermosillo  at  the  smoker  last  night  and  he  let 
fall  many  a  dark  hint  as  to  a  certain  crime  Fro- 
bisher had  committed  for  which  he  could  be  made  to 
smart.  Don  Rafael  is  here  evidently  to  make  him 
smart.  What  that  crime  is  and  what  part  Don 
Rafael  played  in  it,  and  wherein  Frobisher  failed 
in  payment  thereof,  as  my  interpretation  of  the 
matter  is,  is  why  I  must  be  present  at  the  inter- 
view between  these  two  men,  which  is  liable  to 
take  place  any  day,  and  you  are  the  only  one  to 
warn  me  of  its  imminence." 

Gallup  listened  with  interest  to  this  brief  state- 
ment of  facts.  Then  he  said : 

"  Suppose  I  should  tell  you  when  it  was  to  be? 
\  .'hat  then?  " 

*•  Then  I  must  be  in  the  room  with  them ! 
That  is  all  there  is  to  it ! " 


198  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

"  That  is  perfectly  impossible.  It  will  take  place 
in  the  smallest  room  in  his  suite  of  offices.  There 
is  nothing  to  hide  behind." 

"  You  leave  that  to  me.  I'll  be  in  that  room  dur- 
ing the  interview  if  you  will  only  tell  me  what  day  it 
is  to  be,  and  at  what  hour." 

Gallup  smoked  thoughtfully  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  am  a  little  sick  of  the  whole  business,"  he 
said,  slowly.  "  If  you  are  sure  of  what  you  tell 
me,  I  will  resign,  though — well,  never  mind!  I 
shall  pull  through  somehow." 

"  Then,"  said  Ayres,  eagerly,  "  will  you " 

"  I  dictated  a  reply  to  Don  Rafael's  letter  yester- 
day, appointing  the  unusual  hour  of  nine  o'clock 
on  Friday  morning  for  the  interview,"  said  Gallup. 

"  Nine  o'clock !  "  groaned  Ayres,  dismally. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  that?  " 

"Nothing — only  after  it  is  all  over,  you  will 
either  be  called  upon  to  identify  my  corpse,  or  you 
will  know  why  I  moaned,"  said  Ayres.  "/  stay 
up  all  night!" 

"  I  must  be  going,"  said  Gallup,  rising.  "  I  have 
still  a  day's  work  before  me.  He  keeps  six  secre- 
taries busy." 

"  Take  it  easy !  "  said  Ayres.  "  If  I  can  prove  this 
on  him,  he  won't  need  quite  so  many.  But,  before 
you  go,  have  another  cigar  and  let  me  thank  you 
for  coming." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  I  ought  to  thank  you 
for  pushing  me  into  what  I  have  always  known  to 
be  my  duty — to  resign  from  the  employ  of  this 
man." 

"  Shall  you  resign  soon?"  asked  Ayres. 

"  Immediately." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  have  left  by  Friday.  If  things 
turn  out  other  than  I  have  planned,  it  wouldn't 


THE    CUB   REPORTER  199 

be  a  bad  idea  to  have  some  one  about  who  knows 
I  am  in  that  room." 

"  But  you  can't  get  in ! "  objected  Gallup. 
"  That  fireplace,  even,  is  a  false  one.  There  isn't  a 
spot  where  you  could  hide,  and  as  to  coming  in 
disguised — you'd  never  get  within  a  mile  of  that 
inner  office." 

"  Son,"  said  Ayres  Arbuthnot,  "  on  Friday  at 
nine,  I  shall  be  in  that  office.  Put  that  in  your  pipe 
and  smoke  it.  And  you  want  to  stand  ready  to 
swear  that  I  was  there  and  stick  to  it  in  the  face 
of  everything  you  see  and  everybody  you  hear  to 
the  contrary.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  that  I 
take  my  life  in  my  hands  when  I  say  that  I  shall 
be  there." 

"  I  understand  you,  Arbuthnot.  And  in  case  you 
need  me,  I'll  be  there,  too !" 

As  Howard  Gallup  made  his  way  back  to  the 
office,  contradictory  and  conflicting  emotions  filled 
his  mind.  He  was  naturally  prejudiced  against 
Ayres  Arbuthnot,  for  his  aggressive  confidence  in 
himself  always  jarred  on  the  sensibilities  of  the 
less  successful  man,  and  because  of  Ayres'  undis- 
guised passion  for  Angela.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
earnestness,  perseverance  and  courage  of  the  man 
appealed  to  Gallup's  better  self  and  in  the  end,  he 
felt  glad  that  he  had  yielded  to  the  generous  im- 
pulse to  befriend  the  young  reporter. 

Yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  in  his  secret  heart, 
Howard  Gallup  rather  hoped  that  his  rival  would 
have  boasted  prematurely,  for  on  Friday  morning, 
he  made  a  most  careful  search  for  any  suspicion 
of  a  chance  hiding-place,  but  none  was  to  be  seen. 
Although  the  room  was  small,  it  was  superbly 
fitted  up  and  absolutely  sound-proof.  It  was  Mr. 
Frobisher's  boast  that  so  much  money  was  never 


200  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

before  expended  in  so  small  a  room  the  clock  alone 
costing  sixty  thousand  dollars. 

A  priceless  tapestry  covered  the  entrance  to  the 
steel  vault,  to  which  Mr.  Frobisher  alone  knew  the 
combination.  In  case  he  died,  it  was  believed  that, 
unless  he  left  directions  for  opening  it,  the  vault 
must  be  opened  by  force. 

Gallup  had  no  idea  that  his  actions  were  spied 
upon,  yet  no  sooner  had  he  left  the  room  than  a 
slight  noise  was  heard  in  the  securely  sealed  false 
fireplace,  which  was  only  to  exhibit  the  mantel  of 
carved  jade. 

Ralph  Frobisher  was  right  when  he  realised  that 
he  must  defend  himself  in  every  way  against 
Ayres  Arbuthnot,  for  it  was  no  mean  intelli- 
gence which  the  great  man  was  pitted  against. 

In  anticipation  of  gaining  access  to  this  room, 
Ayres  had  spent  much  time  and  money  in  securing 
the  services  of  the  highest  man  for  this  purpose, 
the  Inspector  of  Buildings.  From  him  he  received 
not  only  permission,  but  active  co-operation  in  his 
plan  of  removing  by  night  the  closed  flue  of  the 
fireplace  in  Ralph  Frobisher's  private  office,  and 
of  letting  down  a  platform  by  means  of  ropes,  by 
which  Ayres  could  be  supported  safely  in  the 
chimney,  just  above  the  view  of  those  in  the 
room,  but  within  earshot.  All  this  had  been  ac- 
complished before  Howard  Gallup  agreed  to  help. 

Ayres  had  not  expected  the  luck  of  Marvin 
Cray's  visit,  for  he  knew  that  a  serious  breach  ex- 
isted between  them,  for  some  reason,  then  un- 
known to  him. 

It  was  but  a  little  after  eight  when  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher entered  this  inner  room,  attended  by  obse- 
quious secretaries  to  the  door,  but  which  he  always 
entered  alone. 

He  went  to  the  vault,  unlocked  it,  put  some  docu- 


THE    CUB    REPORTER  201 

ments  in,  took  letters  out,  glanced  through  his 
mail  and  then  rang  for  his  personal  secretary. 

"  Has  anything  been  seen  of  that  reporter, 
Gallup?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Frobisher.  I  nave  neither  seen  him 
nor  heard  of  his  being  around  for  several  days," 
answered  the  young  man.  Yet  as  he  spoke  he  had 
the  curious  feeling  that  a  third  person  heard  him 
and  that  that  third  person  was  the  aforesaid  re- 
porter. 

"Your  not  seeing  him  doesn't  prove  that  he 
hasn't  been  here,"  observed  Mr.  Frobisher,  rudely. 
"  I  haven't  seen  him.  myself,  but  I've  horse  sense 
enough  to  know  that  he  is  around.  You  never 
catch  me  lulling  myself  to  sleep  in  a  false  sense 
of  security  just  because  I  don't  see  everything  I 
expect  to.  I  sense  that  fellow.  He  is  up  to  some- 
thing or  he'd  be  around,  if  only  to  devil  me  by  the 
very  sight  of  him.  Has  Cray  come  yet?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"When  he  comes  show  him  in  at  once.  You 
may  go.  Take  these  letters  and  telegrams." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  door  opened  again 
and  the  intruder's  agitation  was  evident  in  his 
voice. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Frobisher,  but  Mrs. 
Cray  is  without  and  begs  a  ten-minute  interview 
with  you ! " 

"Mrs.  Cray!"  repeated  Mr.  Frobisher.  "What 
can  she  want?" 

"  She  didn't  say,  sir,  but  inasmuch  as  you  are 
expecting  her  husband " 

"Show  her  in  at  once  and  detain  Cray  so  that 
he  will  not  see  her  leave.  Have  Forbes  talk  to 
him  about  San  Jacinto.  That  will  hold  him.  Be 
quick  now ! " 

Almost  immediately  the  soft  whispering  of  a 


202  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

woman's  trailing  garments  sounded  in  the  lis- 
tener's ears,  and  Mr.  Frobisher  rose  to  receive  his 
visitor. 

"I  will  not  detain  you  long,  Mr.  Frobisher," 
she  said,  "  I  know  you  are  the  busiest  of  men,  so 
I  will  be  brief." 

"  Take  all  the  time  you  want,  Mrs.  Cray.  I  am 
at  your  service,"  answered  Frobisher,  gallantly. 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  a  de- 
scription of  my  domestic  problems,  Mr.  Frobisher, 
because  you  would  be  both  bored  and  uncompre- 
hending. I  simply  wish  to  tell  you  that  while 
not  condemning  you  in  the  least,  I  have,  through 
a  clue  of  my  own,  which  I  followed  up,  come  upon 
a  knowledge  of  certain  transactions  of  my  hus- 
band's, which  I  have  begged  him  to  discontinue, 
for  reasons  which  are  vital  to  me — in  a  spiritual 
way." 

"  In  a  what  way?  "  asked  Ralph  Frobisher. 

"In  a  spiritual  way.  But  he  is  weak,  Mr. 
Frobisher, — I  blush  to  say  it — but  he  is  as  weak 
as  water  when  large  sums  of  money  are  concerned. 
So  I  have  come  to  you  to  beg  you  in  the  future, 
not  to  tempt  him  with  more  than  he  will  be  able 
to  resist.  For  my  sake!  You  love  your  wife  and 
are  very  good  to  her.  Everyone  knows  that.  Be 
equally  kind  to  another  man's  wife,  for  the  sake 
of  your  own,  and  promise  me !  " 

"  Well,  well,  Mrs.  Cray.  I  don't  exactly  follow 
you,  but  of  course  I  will  grant  your  request.  That 
is  a  foregone  conclusion.  If  I  understood  it  better, 
perhaps " 

"  I  only  mean  this.  We  have  plenty  of  money 
for  all  our  needs.  Have  other  men  do  you  bid- 
ding in  the  future,  and  don't  tempt  my  poor  hus- 
band further!  In  any  way!  Do  you  understand 
met* 


THE    CUB    REPORTER  203 

"Perhaps  not  entirely,  but  sufficiently.  You 
want  him  to  give  up  the  sort  of  business  he  and 
I  have  been  engaged  in  jointly.  I  hope  he  has 
not  been  too  indiscreet,  even  with  you.  I  also 
hope,  that  if  I  do  this,  I  may  count  on  your  dis- 
cretion?" 

"You  may,  indeed.  I  came  to  you  purposely, 
although  I  could  have  worked  equally  well  and 
more  precipitately,  at  least  in  one  instance,  if  I 
had  worked  through  another  channel.  But  as  my 
husband  made  his  money  through  you,  I  thought 
it  only  honest  to  come  to  you  first ! " 

"  To  give  me  the  first  chance,  so  to  speak ! "  said 
Mr.  Frobisher,  with  a  geniality  which  deceived 
but  one  of  his  auditors.  "  You  were  more  than 
wise.  You  were  kind!  And  in  return  you  may 
count  on  me ! " 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Frobisher,"  said  Mrs.  Cray, 
rising.  Ayres  could  hear  them  both  moving 
toward  the  door.  Then  adieux.  Then  silence. 
But  a  silence  which  spoke. 

The  door  opened  once  more. 

"  Mr.  Cray  is  here,"  announced  Gallup. 

"Show  him  in!" 

Ayres  Arbuthnot  was  enjoying  himself  rarely. 
A  little  cramped  he  was,  to  be  sure,  but  he  pos- 
sessed an  imagination  and  he  could  picture  the 
thoughts  and  expression  on  the  face  of  the  man 
who  thus  sat  in  his  den  and  played  with  the  souls 
and  destinies  of  the  helpless  men  and  women, 
whose  power  was  so  infinitessimal  before  the  re- 
lentless juggernaut  of  his  accumulated  riches.  He 
grinned  as  he  thought  of  Gallup's  surprise. 

In  spite  of  his  content  at  being  within  earshot, 
Ayres  chafed  at  not  being  able  to  see  as  well,  for 
the  tense  silence  which  followed  the  entrance  of 
Marvin  Cray,  indicated  that  Frobisher  was  en- 


204  'ANGELA'S    (QUEST 

deavouring  to  cow  the  weaker  man  by  staring  him 
out  of  countenance. 

"So!"  said  Mr.  Frobisher  at  last,  "you  finally 
decided  to  obey  me!  .Why  didn't  you  come  when 
I  told  you  to?" 

"  Because  I  didn't  want  to,  Kalph  Frobisher ! " 
answered  the  other,  in  a  tone  so  cool  that  the  older 
man  realised  in  a  flash  that  he  had  lost  him  for 
ever,  if  he  did  not  so  intimidate  him  in  this  inter- 
view that  he  would  never  recover  his  new-born 
independence. 

"None  of  that!"  he  thundered.  "I  want  you 
to  understand  right  here  and  now  that  you  belong 
to  me,  body  and  soul.  Do  you  think  you  can  get 
away  from  certain  facts  in  your  past  life?  What 
if  I  should  tell  the  Strong  affair  and  the  Riggs- 
Murdock  story,  and  the — well,  the  Cravanath  af- 
fair to  your  wife?" 

The  chair  of  the  younger  man  creaked. 

"  If  you  suggested  such  a  course,  which,  under 
the  circumstances  of  you  own  guilt,  of  course  you 
would  not,  I  would  reply  that  before  you  could  get 
to  her  with  the  stories,  I  would  have  told  her  my- 
self. I've  often  been  tempted  to!" 

Kalph  Frobisher  laughed. 

"  Tempted ! "  he  said.  "  I  can  just  see  how  nobly 
you  must  have  resisted  the  temptation.  Now  see 
here.  I  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  you — you've 
always  been  too  valuable  to  me.  I  will  overlook 
your  rather  impudent  attitude  if  you  won't  force 
me  to  the  violent  measures  of  retaliation  you  know 
I  am  capable  of,  and  if  you  will  do  as  I  say.  I 
want  this  infernal  reporter — this  Ayres  Arbuth- 
not — removed.  I  don't  want  him  put  away  for 
good.  His  father  is  too  powerful  to  antagonise, 
and  I  fancy  he  suspects  what  his  son  is  up  to, 
therefore  I  would  at  once  come  under  suspicion. 


THE    CUB    REPORTER  205 

But  ave  your  men  engage  him  in  a  quarrel  some 
night  and  cripple  him — I  want  him  in  a  hospital 
for  a  couple  of  months  at  least.  You  know  how  to 
arrange  that.  You  did  it  for  young  Gregory  when 
his  father  insisted  on  going  to  Europe  and  leaving 
us  when  we  needed  him,  and  you  did  it  so  neatly, 
not  a  suspicion  was  raised.  Repeat  the  dose  and 
I'll  see  to  it  that  you  are  made  a  director  in  the 
new  Utah,  Securities  merger.  That's  the  biggest 
plum  I  have  to  give  anybody  and  it's  something 
you've  wanted  a  long  time.  What  do  you  say?" 

A  short  silence  ensued. 

"  What  has  happened  to  your  scheme  of  winning 
him  over  to  your  side  by  means  of  his  infatuation 
for  your  niece?  You  told  me  you  could  do  it  that 
way." 

The  stertorous  breathing  of  Frobisher  could  be 
heard  all  through  the  room.  It  annoyed  him  ex- 
ceedingly to  be  reminded  of  a  plan  of  his  which 
had  miscarried. 

"  I  tried  it,"  he  snapped,  "  but  the  girl  nearly 
bit  my  head  off.  For  all  she  looks  so  gentle,  she 
has  the  usual  red-headed  temper.  She  couldn't 
deny  being  interested  in  him  when  I  taxed  her 
with  it,  but  she  said  she  would  die  before  she  would 
insult  him  by  such  a  request.  She  was  the  most 
beautiful  creature  I  ever  saw  while  she  was  hand- 
ing it  out  to  me !  But  firm  as  a  rock.  No,  it  must 
be  managed  another  way." 

Cray  made  no  answer  at  first.  He  was  thinking. 
He  wanted  to  please  his  wife.  He  knew  Ayres 
Arbuthnot  was  a  friend  of  hers  and  he  hesitated 
also  on  that  account.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  this 
was  a  piece  of  work  which  appealed  to  him  be- 
cause it  required  the  exercise  of  his  every  faculty. 
He  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  it,  as  a  man  rejoices 
in  a  battle  he  feels  sure  of  winning.  In  addition, 


206  ANGELA'S    QUEST   \ 

being  a  director  in  the  Utah  Securities  merger 
meant  tenfold  the  power  he  had  ever  possessed 
before. 

Ayres  listened  with  bated  breath.  It  was  a  suf- 
ficiently creepy  thing  to  overhear  two  men  deliber- 
ately plan  to  cripple  and  lay  one  up  in  the  hospi- 
tal for  a  couple  of  months.  But  Ayres,  with  the 
sublime  confidence  of  youth,  felt  quite  equal  to 
coping  with  the  situation.  He  listened  with  the 
hope  that  Marvin  Cray,  for  the  sake  of  his  wife, 
who  was  so  loved  by  all  the  Arbuthnots,  would 
refuse  his  share  in  the  transaction. 

At  last  Cray  spoke. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  want  to  do  it,"  he  said. 

"Why  not?    Afraid?  "  asked  Frobisher. 

Cray  smiled. 

"A  man  who  has  assisted  you  to  commit  all  the 
crimes  I  have — not  even  sticking  at  murder — is 
not  apt  to  be  afraid,"  he  said. 

"Don't  use  such  words  to  me,"  growled  Fro- 
bisher. 

"  Why  not?    They  are  true." 

"  True  or  not,  there's  no  use  speaking  them.  The 
walls  have  ears  nowadays." 

Cray  laughed. 

"  That  reporter  seems  to  have  got  on  your  nerves 
with  a  vengeance,"  he  said.  "  I  never  saw  you 
timid  before ! " 

"  Timid ! "  thundered  Frobisher,  smiting  the  ta- 
ble with  a  heavy  blow.  "  No  man  ever  called  me 
that  before!" 

"Well,  what  do  you  call  being  all  packed  up 
ready  to  skip  the  country,  with  your  yacht  in  com- 
mission and  a  tug  under  full  steam  lying  at  the 
nearest  dock?  I  call  it  chicken-hearted!  Stay 
and  fight  it  out  and  beat  them  all ! " 

A  short  silence  ensued,  during  which  Ayres  fan- 


THE   CUB    REPORTER  207 

cied  he  could  see  them  glaring  at  each  other  across 
the  inlaid  table. 

"  I  know  now  that  you  hate  me,  Marvin  Cray," 
said  the  older  man  slowly.  "  I  only  suspected  it 
before.  You  know  that  to  stay  here  one  hour  too 
long  would  be  to  find  myself  in  the  Tombs.  Yet 
you  try  to  play  on  my  vanity  and  screw  my  cour- 
age to  the  danger  point.  I'm  glad  I've  found  you 
out.  My  offer  is  no  longer  open  to  you.  You  may 
go!" 

He  pushed  a  button,  the  door  opened  and  Gal- 
lup entered. 

"  Show  Mr.  Cray  out ! "  he  ordered. 

"  Just  one  moment,  Mr.  Gallup.  I  have  not 
quite  finished  with  Mr.  Frobisher." 

"  Very  well,  Gallup.  I'll  ring  again  when  I  need 
you,"  conceded  Frobisher,  reluctantly. 

When  the  door  had  closed,  Marvin  Cray's  orien- 
tal eyes  lost  their  sleepy  look. 

"  Don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  he  said,  speaking  a 
little  more  rapidly.  "  I've  changed  my  mind.  I'll 
do  what  you  want  done,  but  only  on  the  clear  un- 
derstanding that  you  will  make  me  a  director  in 
the  Utah  Securities  Company,  and  give  me  a  hun- 
dred thousand  of  the  stock." 

"  I'll  do  it,  if  you  will  buy  fifty  thousand  addi- 
tional and  pay  for  it  in  real  money,"  answered 
Frobisher. 

Cray  writhed  inwardly,  but  dared  not  demur. 
If  he  did,  he  knew  Frobisher  would  rule  that  no 
man  could  be  a  director  who  owned  less  than  a 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  stock.  Frobisher 
must  want  some  cash  urgently.  He  frequently  did 
and  generally  got  it  in  some  such  manner. 

Then  he  thought  of  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty. 

"Will  .you  make  it  a  square  deal  without  my 
putting  up  any  money,  if  I  put  you  in  possession, 


208  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

of  two  pieces  of  information  I  have  chanced  on 
through  my  wife?" 

"  Through  your  wife !  "  eyclaimed  Frobisher, 
eagerly.  "  Yes,  I  will !  I — I  am  interested.  I 
have  always  believed  a  lot  in  what  women  know. 
Tell  me  and  if  I  can  use  it,  you  are  in  for  noth- 
ing." 

"//  you  can  use  it!"  laughed  Cray.  "Well, 
rather!  Mrs.  Cray  found  out — from  the  girl  her- 
self, mind  you — that  my  suspicions  were  correct. 
Angelica  is  not  your  niece.  She  is  Angela  Crava- 
nath.  That  is  my  first;  and  that  the  Arbuthnots 
have  her  mother  in  their  house  is  my  second.  I 
found  that  last  out  to-day  myself!  " 

FOP  an  instant  not  a  sound  was  heard,  while 
Ralph  Frobisher  sat  digesting  the  news. 

The  silence  seemed  to  last  five  minutes. 

Then  both  men  rose. 

"  Thank  you,  Cray.  That's  worth  fifty  thousand 
to  me.  The  deal  goes ! " 

Cray  could  not  resist  an  indiscretion. 

"  You  don't  seem  as  surprised  as  I  thought  you 
would.  You  even  look  pleased!"  he  said. 

"Pleased?  Do  I?  Well,  perhaps!  Yes,  per- 
haps I  am  pleased,  or  relieved  rather.  It  smoothes 
out  things  a  little  better,  and  relieves  me  of  a 
certain  absurdly  conscientious  responsibility  I  felt 
toward  my  dead  brother — a  feeling  I  hardly  knew 
what  to  do  with,  it  was  so  foreign!" 

He  gave  vent  to  a  short,  somewhat  excited  laugh. 

"You  look  mystified,  my  good  Cray.  Don't 
bother  your  poor  head  about  what  you  don't  un- 
derstand. Things  seem  coming — not  my  way  ex- 
actly— but  to  a  head.  Go  on  now  and  lay  your 
plans." 

"  All  right,"  said  Cray,  rising  and  pushing  back 
his  chair.  "  Make  yourself  easy.  You  won't  be 
bothered  by  this  Arbuthnot  much  longer." 


THE    CUB    REPORTER  209 

"  Much  longer !  "  snapped  Frobisher.  "  I  don't 
propose  to  be !  I  want  the  job  done  to-night !  Do 
you  hear? " 

"I  hear,  and  I'll  do  it,  if  possible.  But  I  can 
only  have  certain  men  do  a  job  like  this.  Suppose 
I  can't  find  them?  I  can't  advertise  for  them, 
can  I?" 

"  Well,  do  your  best,"  growled  Frobisher.  "  I 
suppose  I'll  have  to  let  it  go  at  that!  " 

"  I  suppose  you  will.  Don't  ring  for  Gallup.  I 
know  my  way  out.  Good-bye!" 

The  door  had  no  sooner  closed  behind  him  than 
Frobisner  rang  for  Gallup. 

"  Send  word  to  the  captain  of  the  Eocnigin  Luise 
that  I  will  probably  come  aboard  to-morrow  night 
about  ten  or  eleven,  and  you  see  to  it  personally 
that  everything  is  in  readiness  for  a  two-months' 
cruise.  Don't  trust  it  to  anyone  else.  Inspect 
everything  personally.  I  shall  not  overlook  any 
mistakes." 

"  Very  good,  sir!  "  answered  Gallup.  "  I'll  send 
Forbes  with  the  message,  and  I'll  go  myself  in  about 
an  hour.  You  may  want  me  about  the  Utah  Se- 
curities matter,  which  comes  up  at  ten,  if  you  re- 
member." 

"Very  well.    Is  Don  Rafael  waiting?" 

"Yes,  sir.    Will  you  see  him?" 

"Let  him  in  now  and  hurry  up  about  it.  He's 
as  slow  as  molasses  in  January,  with  his  infernal 
Spanish  ceremonious  politeness.  Kick  him  in!" 

Gallup  went  out  hastily  and  ushered  in  Don 
Rafael. 

But  when  the  Spaniard  entered  there  were  none 
of  the  former  courtesies  exchanged. 

"  I  have  come,"  he  said,  after  the  briefest  greet- 
ings had  been  exchanged,  "  to  ask  you  a  few  ques- 
tions, and  to  receive  a  few  answers,  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher!" 


210  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

"  Have  you?  Well,  why  didn't  you  write  them 
and  save  yourself  the  fatigue  of  the  journey?" 

The  arrogance  of  birth  leaped  to  avenge  the  in- 
sult of  the  arrogance  of  wealth. 

"  In  my  country,  Mr.  Frobisher,  gentlemen  do 
not  lie.  I  suppose  it  is  the  same  in  yours.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

"  Certainly  it  is  so.  In  America,  gentlemen 
don't  lie  any  more  than  they  do  in  yours  or  any 
other  man's  country ! "  answered  Frobisher,  more 
patriotically  than  wisely. 

Don  Rafael  puffed  at  his  cigarette. 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  said.    Then  he  laughed  softly. 

"Well,  what  are  you  driving  at?  What  do  you 
mean?"  demanded  Mr.  Frobisher. 

"  Nothing !  Except  that — you  have  lied  to  me. 
But — you  have  just  explained  why !  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  infernal  puppy!" 
shouted  Frobisher.  "  If  you  dare  insinuate  such 
a  thing  to  me,  I'll  blow  your  brains  out ! " 

"  Did  you  not  promise  me  that  if  I  would  attend 
to  the  matter  of  the  man  you  sent  to  me,  that  I 
should  receive  a  clear  title  to  the  Hermosillo  es- 
tate, and  thus  rehabilitate  our  name  by  once  more 
owning  land  with  our  title?  Did  you  not  lead  me 
to  believe  that  the  thing  we  had  hoped  for  all  our 
lives  was  miraculously  within  our  grasp?  Then 
what  did  you  do?  You  put  it  into  Marvin  Cray's 
name!  The  wonderful  Hermosillo  estate — the 
richest  and  largest  in  all  Estrellada!  And  now 
what  do  I  find?  That  it  is  not  yours  to  give  and 
never  was!  It  belongs  to  the  daughter  of  the  man 
whom  I  imprisoned  and  starved  and  ill-treated  by 
your  commands,  until  I  nearly  had  him  where  you 
wanted  him,  when " 

"When  what?"  asked  Frobisher,  hoarsely. 

"  When  he  escaped.    No  one  knows  where  he  is !  " 


THE    COB    REPORTER  211 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  gasped  the  older  man.  "  You 
made  that  up  to  get  even  with  me  for  deceiving 
you.  Cravanath  is  not  at  large.  He — he  can't  be ! 
After  all  my  trouble!  He  can't  be!  But  let  me 
tell  you,  Don  Rafael,  if  what  you  say  is  true,  and 
he  is  free,  your  life  isn't  worth  a  tinker's  dam. 
You  shall  answer  to  me  for  having  let  him  escape. 
I'd  like  to  kill  you  myself!" 

The  Spaniard  laughed. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  you ! "  he  said.  "  I  know 
that  men  who  use  the  methods  you  use,  are  always 
cowards  at  heart.  At  least,  I  am  in  no  danger 
from  you  personally.  You  might  have  some  man 
to  kill  me  openly.  Or  some  ruffian  to  stab  me  in 
the  back.  But,  I  am  in  no  danger  from  you ! " 

The  Spaniard  failed  to  sting  the  American  by 
this  taunt  as  he  had  hoped.  Ralph  Frobisher  was 
too  much  of  a  pachyderm.  His  mind  was  busy 
with  other  things. 

"Who  told  you  about  Hermosillo?  Was  it  Mar- 
vin Cray?  "  he  asked  suspiciously. 

"It  was  not.  It  was  told  to  me  by  a  young 
gentleman,  with  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  get- 
ting drunk,  whose  name  I  know  not." 

"Was  he  a  tall,  smooth-faced,  rather  good-look- 
ing chap  with  very  white  teeth?"  demanded  Fro- 
bisher, angrily. 

"An  excellent  description  of  my  young  friend, 
who  can  drink  moderately  when  everyone  else  is 
drinking  immoderately.  He  seems  to  know  all 
about  your  affairs! " 

Ralph  Frobisher  gave  only  an  inarticulate  growl 
of  rage. 

"  You  know  who  he  is?  He  is  perhaps  a  friend 
of  yours?  "  smiled  the  Spaniard. 

"  Did  he  ask  you  anything  about  the  man  Cra- 
vanath?" asked  Frobisher  in  a  low  voice. 


212  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

"  He  circled  all  around  the  subject,  without  once 
alighting  on  it.  He  seems  to  know  all  about  it. 
He  told  me,  for  example,  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  Miss  Cravanath,  the  young  lady  who  owns 
Hermosillo ! " 

"Well,  that  shows  that  he  was  stringing  you, 
Don  Rafael,  for  Miss  Cravanath  is  now  a  nun  in 
a  Catholic  convent,  and  will  never  be  heard  of 
again  in  this  world." 

"Ah?"  said  the  Spaniard,  in  a  tone  of  polite 
unbelief. 

"  It  is  true,  whether  you  believe  it  or  not,"  as- 
serted Frobisher.  "  Your  informant  is  the  most 
unreliable  man  I  ever  met.  Nothing  but  a  cub 
reporter  on  a  flashy  yellow  journal." 

"The  young  man  I  refer  to  is  a  gentleman," 
said  Don  Kafael,  carelessly. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  don't  care  what  you  think  he  is. 
Let's  not  waste  any  more  time  in  talk.  You  say 
this  man  Cravanath  has  escaped.  I  suppose  you 
know  where  you  could  lay  your  hands  on  him 
again,  if  you  thought  the  title  to  Hermosillo  was 
mine  to  give?" 

"Possibly,"  assented  Don  Rafael. 

"  Well,  does  anything  stand  in  the  way  of  your 
securing  and  taking  care  of  him  again?  " 

"  One  or  two  things  stand  in  the  way,  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher. How  about  your  allowing  me  to  divide  the 
net  profits  of  Hermosillo  on  the  sugar  cane  I  sold 
to  the  San  Jacinto  Sugar  Refinery?" 

"  That  is  all  right.  You  have  been  doing  it  for 
about  nine  years.  You've  made  money,  haven't 
you?" 

"  I  have  cleared  about  four  thousand  dollars  a 
year  from  it.  You  also  made  the  same,  did  you 
not?" 


THE    CUB    REPORTER  213 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so.  I  don't  remember  exactly. 
What  of  it?" 

"  This ! "  cried  the  Spaniard.  "  I  have  learned 
since  I  came  up  here  that  you  are  the  San  Jacinto 
Sugar  Refining  Co. !  You!  " 

"  But  I  am  not ! "  declared  Frobisher.  "  How 
did  you  ever  get  such  an  idea  into  your  head?  " 

"The  stock  stands  in  the  name  of  George 
Forbes.  He  is  in  your  office.  I  have  seen  and 
talked  to  him." 

"Who  told  you  this?"  asked  Frobisher.  "Not 
that  infernal " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Frobisher.  That  infernal  young 
man  was  very  pleased  to  put  me  wise,  as  he  ex- 
pressed it,  to  many  affairs  of  yours.  He  seems 
to  have  spent  much  time  investigating  them." 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  pencil  tapping  impa- 
tiently upon  the  mother-of-pearl  in  the  table  at 
which  the  two  men  sat. 

Then  Frobisher  spoke  calmly,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened  to  ruffle  him. 

"If  you  will  get  hold  of  Cravanath  again,  you 
can  name  your  price,  Don  Rafael,  and  if  I  don't 
keep  my  word  this  time,  you  can  liberate  him. 
You  know  what  that  would  mean  to  me,  for  you 
are  the  only  man  in  the  world  I  trusted  with  the 
story." 

"  You  did  not  trust  me.  I  surprised  you  in  the 
act  and  found  out  for  myself,  whereupon  you  took 
me  into  your  plans  in  order  to  keep  your  part  in 
the  crime  secret." 

"Well,  well!  Have  it  your  own  way!  The 
question  is  what  do  you  want  for  it?  " 

A  faint  hissing  noise  made  itself  heard,  which 
gradually  became  louder  and  more  sibillant.  It 
was  the  Spaniard  drawing  his  breath. 


214  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Suddenly  he  spoke. 

"You  want  to  know  what  I  will  take  for  it? 
Well,  I  will  take  nothing,  for  I  will  not  do  it! 
Your  man  has  escaped,  yes!  He  will  avenge  him- 
self and  me  and  mine !  Listen  to  me,  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher!  You  let  me  believe  that  Hermosillo  would 
be  mine,  and  under  that  belief  I  allowed  a  mar- 
riage to  be  arranged  between  my  sister  and  the 
Marquis  de  Vallambroso.  It  was  publicly  an- 
nounced. When  we  discovered  that  our  hopes 
were  vain  and  you  made  known  to  me  that  it  was 
not  to  be,  the  Marquis  withdrew  from  the  alliance, 
and  my  poor  sister,  scarcely  more  than  a  child,  in 
her  humiliation,  killed  herself.  Just  as  I  mean  to 
kill  you,  after  I  tell  you  that  /  liberated  Christo- 
pher Cravanath ! " 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  shot,  which  evidently 
penetrated  no  further  than  the  walls  of  that  sound- 
proof office,  for  when  Howard  Gallup  hurried  in, 
with  a  white  face,  he  found  Mr.  Frobisher  bending 
over  the  prostrate  figure  of  the  Spaniard,  with  a 
smoking  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"  Suicide ! "  he  said  simply.  And  he  drew  his 
breath  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  if,  after  all,  a  great 
load  were  off  his  mind. 

But  if,  while  stooping  over  his  victim,  he  had 
chanced  to  look  under  the  table,  he  would  have 
seen  the  bent  figure  of  the  cub  reporter  crouching 
in  the  open  fireplace,  with  a  cut  rope  in  his  hands. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE  FLIGHT 

"  Then,"  said  Ayres,  concluding  his  narrative  of 
these  events  to  his  father,  "  he  walked  out  of  that 
room  as  coolly  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Gal- 
lup stood  there  shaking  like  a  leaf.  '  My  God ! '  I 
heard  him  say.  '/  might  be  accused  of  this!'  I 
saw  that  he  was  in  such  a  panic  that  he  might  do 
something  rash,  so  I  spoke,  at  the  risk  of  scaring 
him  to  death.  <  No,  you  won't,  Gallup,'  I  said.  '  I 
was  here  and  I  saw.  Give  me  a  leg  up.  I  don't 
want  to  be  known  in  this  just  now.  Let  them 
hush  it  up  in  the  usual  way ! '  The  boy  came  to, 
just  long  enough  to  do  as  I  said,  for  I  heard  the 
door  open  and  some  one  man  enter,  who  said 
softly,  'You  may  go,  Mr.  Gallup,  but,  unless  you 
wish  to  be  accused  of  this  yourself,  you  will  say 
nothing,  and  carry  out  the  orders  Mr.  Frobisher 
gave  you  just  before  he  left.' " 

"  My  word ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Arbuthnot.  "  In 
spite  of  all  we  have  known  of  this  man,  I  never 
would  have  suspected  this!  Why,  it  is  murder!" 

"  At  first  I  was  undecided  what  to  do.  I  went 
to  the  police  station  and  found  that  nothing  had 
been  reported.  Then  I  went  to  the  office.  Not  a 
word  had  been  heard.  Then  I  'Came  to  you.  What 

shall  I  do?  I  feel  sure  that Hello!  What's 

that?  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  a  messenger  is 
here  for  Mr.  Ayres.  He  says  he  has  been  hunting 
you  with  a  note  which  he  was  to  deliver  into  no 
hands  but  yours." 

"Send  him  in,  Boyd,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot.: 

815 


216  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Ayres  seized  the  message  from  the  boy  and  tore 
open  the  envelope. 

"  It's  from  her ! "  he  cried.    "  They're  gone ! " 

He  flung  the  note  across  to  his  father,  who  read 
it  with  hands  trembling  with  agitation. 

Ayres  dismissed  the  wondering  messenger,  with 
snch  a  fee  that  he  fled  for  fear  his  benefactor 
might  change  his  mind  and  repent  his  generosity. 

An  entirely  new  expression  came  over  the  face 
of  the  older  man  as  he  folded  the  note  and  handed 
it  back  to  his  son.  It  was  the  look  of  a  man,  who, 
when  confronted  by  a  crisis,  knew  how  to  act  and 
act  promptly. 

Boyd  re-entered  in  response  to  his  ring. 

"  Boyd,"  said  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  "  please  attend 
carefully  to  what  I  say.  Send  a  wireless  to  the 
Altessa,  saying  that  a  party  of  twelve  will  board 
her  in  two  hours.  Send  word  to  all  wireless  sta- 
tions to  report  the  whereabouts  of  the  steam  yacht 
Eoenigin  Luise  to  the  Altessa.  Ayres,  you  go  at 
once  to  Inspector  Mahan  and  tell  what  you  know, 
adding  that  we  sail  at  once  in  pursuit.  I  will  tele- 
phone to  your  mother." 

"Are  you  going  to  take  her?"  asked  his  son  in 
wide-eyed  astonishment, 

"Wherever  that  devoted  girl  Angela  can  go, 
your  mother  and  sister  can  follow.  We  can  keep 
them  out  of  danger.  Be  at  home  as  soon  as  you 
can.  I  shall  need  you." 

Ayres  plunged  out  of  his  father's  office,  and  in- 
side of  five  minutes,  the  Arbuthnot  household  was 
in  a  state  of  wild  excitement  at  tiie  prospect  of  so 
stirring  an  upheaval  in  their  quiet  life  as  a  race 
after  the  escaping  Koenigin  Luise,  for,  although 
Mr.  Arbuthnot  had  cautiously  named  no  man  over 
his  private  wire,  still  Midge  and  Bettie  knew. 

The  instant  the  news  was  known  to  these  two, 


THE   FLIGHT  217 

and  excited  maids  had  begun  to  pack,  the  eyes  of 
mother  and  daughter  met. 

"  Of  course,  mother,  daddy  meant  her  to  go  too ! 
It  would  be  too  cruel  to  try  to  leave  her ! " 

"You  are  right,  daughter.  I  was  only  wonder- 
ing  " 

"  Well,  in  her  place,  would  you  want  to  be  left 
behind,  for  fear  you  were  not  strong  enough  to 
stand  it?" 

"No,  no,  I  would  not!  Besides,  she  has  im- 
proved so  wonderfully  since  she  came.  I  will  go 
to  her  now.  Order  the  motor  omnibus  and  my 
limousine  car  at  once.  I  may  have  to  go  out." 

"You  can't  go  out,  Bettie!  We  ought  to  leave 
this  house  in  two  hours.  And  look  at  all  you  have 
to  do!  You'll  have  to  send  for  everything  you 
want !  "  said  Midge. 

"All  right,"  answered  Bettie,  vaguely.  "I  only 
thought " 

"You  are  not  thinking  of  taking  any  of  your 
assorted  invalids  from  your  hospital,  I  hope ! " 
said  her  daughter,  sternly.  "  I  won't  have  it ! 
You  don't  know  where  we  are  going,  nor  how  long 
we  shall  be  gone.  The  only  outsider  will  be  Alan. 
I'm  going  to  take  him!" 

"Outsider!"  giggled  Bettie,  in  a  way  which 
made  Midge's  cheeks  flame. 

"  Yes,  outsider !  "  she  snapped.  "  And  he  will 
stay  an  outsider  for  many  a  long  day  yet,  in  spite 
of  your  fondness  for  him.  You  are  so  sorry  for 
him,  you  want  to  pick  him  up  and  rock  him  every, 
time  he  looks  properly  humble!  It's  you  who 
keeps  his  courage  so  unbearably  bolstered  up." 

Bettie  took  her  lower  lip  between  her  teeth  and 
turned  a  mocking  gaze  at  Midget's  flushed  face. 
Then  she  picked  up  her  skirts  and  ran  laughing 
out  of  the  room,  leaving  her  daughter  fuming. 


218  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

She  knocked  at  the  door  of  a  suite  of  rooms 
overlooking  the  sunken  garden,  and  when  the  door 
opened,  she  ran  in  and  knelt  by  the  side  of  the 
figure  of  a  lady  who  sat  in  the  conservatory,  in 
the  midst  of  a  riot  of  flowers. 

As  the  lady  turned  to  greet  her  visitor,  it  could 
be  seen  that  she  was  Mrs.  Cravanath,  but  how 
changed ! 

She  was  no  longer  the  helpless  invalid.  Bettie 
Arbuthnot,  when  she  took  her  husband's  private 
car  and  went  to  fetch  Angela's  mother,  with  no 
one  in  her  secret  except  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  had  builded 
better  than  she  knew. 

Not  only  had  the  change  of  scene  benefited  Mrs. 
Cravanath,  but  the  joy  of  being  once  more  among 
her  own  kind,  and  being  in  daily  and  hourly  touch 
with  the  progress  of  the  case,  kept  up  her  spirits, 
and  her  body  improved  under  the  same  regimen  as 
that  which  influenced  her  mind.  She  felt  inspired 
by  a  sure  hope.  She  knew  that  she  was  in  the 
march  of  events,  and  after  a  week  or  two,  to  the 
delight  of  all,  she  discovered  that  she  could  lift 
her  hands,  turn  her  head,  move  her  body  slightly, 
and  shuffle  her  feet  on  the  footboard  of  her  wheeled 
chair. 

Angela's  joy  and  surprise  to  find  her  mother  and 
Mammy  in  such  delightful  quarters  as  the  favour- 
ite guest-rooms  of  Bettie  Arbuthnot,  knew  no 
bounds.  They  met  almost  every  day. 

It  was  seriously  discussed  whether  it  was  worth 
while  for  Angela  to  remain  in  her  false  position 
any  longer.  But  the  young  girl  herself  decided  it. 
She  had  gradually  come  to  feel  that  no  further 
clue  to  her  father's  whereabouts  could  be  learned 
by  her  in  that  house.  The  conversations  were  too 
guarded  for  that.  But  she  felt  that  she  was  needed 
in  another  way.  There  was  less  friction  than  when 


THE    FLIGHT  219 

she  came.  Evangeline's  jealousy  had  vanished, 
having  nothing  to  feed  upon.  Neddie's  infatuation 
he  had  been  obliged  to  conceal  after  one  stormy 
interview  with  his  father,  when  he  discovered  it. 
In  Angela's  opinion,  the  relations  between  husband 
and  wife  were  almost  unbearable.  They  now  quar- 
relled openly  before  her,  each  seeking  her  as  a 
champion  in  their  disputes.  Mrs.  Frobisher  was 
insulted  daily  by  her  husband's  unfeeling  com- 
parisons on  her  appearance  and  increasing  age, 
until  he  finally  openly  offered  her  any  sum  to  di- 
vorce him  and  allow  him  to  find  a  younger  wife. 

Angela  was  tortured  by  this  state  of  harmony, 
but  to  her  surprise,  Mrs.  Frobisher,  in  her  humili- 
ation, clung  to  the  steadfast  courage  and  calm 
poise  of  the  young  girl,  and  begged  her  never  to 
think  of  deserting  her. 

Thus,  when  Angela  came  in  from  her  ride  in  the 
park,  and  was  met  by  her  maid  with  the  message 
that  Mrs.  Frobisher  and  Evangeline  had  gone 
aboard  the  Koenigin  Luise,  and  Mr.  Frobisher  was 
leaving  in  an  hour,  and  begged  Angela  to  go  with 
them,  she  looked  upon  this  cruise  as  a  means  of  a 
possible  reconciliation,  and  instantly  sacrificed  her 
own  wishes,  in  order  to  go. 

Then  it  was  that  she  wrote  her  notes  to  Ayres 
and  her  mother,  and  with  her  maid,  who  had, 
under  Mr.  Frobisher's  orders,  packed  everything 
in  readiness  for  her  decision,  she  stepped  into  her 
own  electric  brougham  and  was  taken  to  tke  tug, 
where  Mr.  Frobisher  met  her. 

All  this  Mrs.  Cravanath  knew,  or  rather  An- 
gela's note  stated  that  these  were  her  plans,  when 
Bettie  hurried  into  her  presence,  and  in  a  few 
words  announced  that  it  was  thought  necessary 
to  follow  them. 

Although  she  gave  no  details,  at  that  time  being 


[220  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

iunaware  of  the  death  of  Don  Eafael,  Mrs.  Crava-1 
nath's  mind  leaped  forward,  in  anticipation  of 
some  urgent  necessity,  so  that  when  Mrs.  Arbuth- 
not  asked  if  she  felt  strong  enough  to  go  with  them, 
Mrs.  Cravanath's  reply  was  to  lift  herself  from  her 
chair  and  to  stand  uoright  for  the  first  time  in 
over  ten  years. 

Mammy,  seeing  it,  burst  forth  in  a  torrent  of 
thanksgiving. 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  my  own  eyes,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Arbuthnot,  whereupon  Mammy  turned  upon 
her  reproachfully. 

"  Dat's  becaze  you  ain't  got  no  faith !  "  she  cried. 
"  Ef  y'all  would  only  believe  wot  you  say  you  does, 
you  wouldn't  be  so  surprised  when  yo'  fin'  yo' 
heabenly  Fathah  givin'  yo'  what  yo'  mos'  wo'e  out 
yo'  knees  axin'  Him  f oh !  Jes'  look  at  Miss  Mta's 
face!  Do  she  look  astonished?  No,  ma'am!  Dat 
chile  ain't  wasted  huh  'leben  yeahs  ob  silence !  She 
ain't  been  able  to  talk  to  us,  but  she  always  could 
talk  to  huh  heabenly  Pathah,  an'  she  knows  she 
gwine  get  well!  Don'  you,  pretty?  What's  dat 
yo'  tryin'  to  say?  Is  /  gwine  too?  Cose  I  is! 
Ain't  I,  Miss  Bettie?  Yo'  jes'  gib  me  a  hour  to 
get  Miss  Mta  fixed,  en  you  all  will  fin'  us  waitin' 
awn  de  do.'step !  " 

Bettie  flew  back  to  tell  Midge  the  good  news. 
She  found  that  young  lady  almost  too  busy  to 
listen,  nevertheless  Bettie  poured  forth  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  invalid's  wonderful  feat,  and  added 
that  her  face  fairly  seemed  glorified. 

"  I  can't  understand  her  beauty.  Her  complex- 
ion is  as  fresh  as  a  child's.  Her  eyes  are  as  soft  as 
a  deer's,  and  there  is  not  a  line  nor  a  wrinkle  in 
her  face.  Her  hands,  too,  are  like  a  baby's.  She 
—what?  " 

"  I  understand  it ! "  answered  Midge,  with  her 


THE    FLIGHT  221 

mouth  full  of  pins.  "She  is  a  Christian — a  real 
one,  you  know,  not  imitations  like  us,  who  say 
words  which  mean  nothing.  I've  watched  her  and 
I  know.  Just  you  wait  till  she  gets  her  speech 
back,  or  until  she  can  write.  Then  you'll  get  the 
surprise  of  your  life,  and  unless  I  am  mistaken, 
we'll  all  see  it  on  this  cruise.  7  expect  doings, 
myself ! " 

The  time  flew  by  as  if  on  wings,  and  in  less  time 
than  seemed  possible,  the  entire  party  found  them- 
selves whirling  through  the  streets  in  automobiles 
and  spending  the  time  en  route  inquiring  frantic- 
ally of  each  other  and  of  the  distracted  maids  if 
this  or  that  had  been  forgotten. 

At  the  last  moment,  Ayres  had  telephoned  that 
he  was  on  a  new  clue  and  wrould  meet  them  on  the 
pier. 

As  the  automobiles  drew  up,  he  met  them  with 
an  inscrutable  look  on  his  face.  Without  wasting 
a  moment  in  explanation,  he  plunged  into  the  heart 
of  the  matter. 

"  Mrs.  Frobisher  is  here.  She  went  aboard  the 
wrong  tug — Gallup  was  with  her — and  the  Koe- 
nigin  Luise  has  sailed  without  her,  with  her  hus- 
band, son,  daughter  and  Angela  on  board.  She 
begs  and  implores  us  to  take  her  with  us  on  the 
Altessa.  What  do  you  say,  mother?  It  will  come 
hardest  on  you  and  Midge !  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Bettie  promptly.  "  It  will 
come  hardest  on  Mrs.  Cravanath.  I  will  ask  her. 
If  she  says  yes,  and  you  and  daddy  think  it  wise, 
you  need  not  consider  Midge  and  me,  need  they, 
little  daughter?  " 

Midge  made  a  wry  face. 

"I  suppose  not,  Bettie  dear! "  she  said  whimsi- 
cally. "  But  I  do  hope  that  the  devil  himself  will 
not  offer  to  come  along,  because  if  you  felt  suffi- 


222  'ANGELA'S   QUEST 

ciently  sorry  for  him,  you'd  surely  make  him  wel- 
come ! " 

As  was  more  than  half  a  foregone  conclusion, 
the  invalid  signified  her  acquiescence,  so  that  when 
a  figure,  heavily  veiled  and  dressed  entirely  in 
black,  came  slowly  forward,  clinging  helplessly  to 
the  arm  of  Howard  Gallup,  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  met 
her  kindly  and  stopped  her  feebly  expressed  thanks 
by  bringing  them  all  forward  to  board  the  launch. 

When  they  had  started,  there  was  a  hurried  con- 
ference between  Ayres  and  Howard  Gallup,  who 
had  followed  in  Ayres'  own  motor  boat. 

"You  are  perfectly  welcome  to  come  along,  as 
yon  jolly  well  know,  but,  under  the  circumstances, 
I'd  feel  more  comfortable  to  know  that  there  was 
somebody  left  in  New  York,  who  knew  all  the 
facts.  We  may  need  you  uncommon  badly. 

"  Of  course,  personal  wishes  are  out  of  it,  Ar- 
buthnot. I'm  willing  to  do  whatever  seems  best. 
I've  sent  in  my  resignation,  so  I'm  free  to  do  what 
I  like.  I'll  stay  if  you  say  so.  Suppose  we  let 
Mrs.  Frobisher  decide.  I  feel,  in  a  way,  responsi- 
ble for  her,  and  she  seems  almost  beside  herself 
with  grief." 

"  Certainly ! "  responded  Ayres.  "  You  are  re- 
sponsible for  her.  She  was  left  in  your  charge. 
By  the  way,  Father  wished  me  to  ask  you  if  you'd 
care  to  be  his  secretary,  as  we  are  sending  Boyd  to 
Arizona  for  his  lungs." 

"  If  I'd  care  to !  "  repeated  Gallup.  "  The  offer 
flatters  me ! " 

"  Then  report  to-day.  I'm  glad  you're  one  of  us. 
Now  hurry  and  come  aboard.  We  haven't  much 
time." 

The  two  young  men  dashed  aboard  the  yacht  and 
sought  Mrs.  Frobisher,  who  was  standing  alone, 
leaning  heavily  on  the  gunwale,  as  if  unable  to 
bear  her  own  weight  without  support. 


THE  FLIGHT  223 

Ayres  stood  back  while  Gallup  hastily  consulted 
her. 

She  laughed  unsteadily  as  he  finished. 

"  Hurry ! "  called  Ayres.  "  They're  about  to  cast 
off!" 

"  So  they  want  to  leave  someone  behind  who  is 
in  possession  of  all  the  facts,  do  they?  "  said  Mrs. 
Frobisher,  the  blood  rushing  to  her  face  and  neck 
in  waves  of  crimson.  "  Then  stay,  by  all  means ! 
But — you  will  need  more  than  you  are  now  aware 
of,  if  you  are  to  know  all.  Take  this  letter,  but 
promise  me  not  to  read  it  until  we  have  sailed. 
And  do  not  act  on  it  at  all.  Remember  it  is  my 
secret  and  my  problem.  I  only  trust  you  with  it 
because  it  may  kelp  them.  All  I  ask  is,  when  we 
sight  the  Koenigin  Lnise,  to  be  sent  aboard  of  her 
before  anything  else  is  done.  Mr.  Ayres  Arbuth- 
not  has  promised  me  that,  and  I  trust  him.  May 
I  trust  you  also?  " 

"  You  may,  Mrs.  Frobisher ! "  answered  the 
young  man,  recoiling  somewhat  from  the  wild 
light  in  the  woman's  eyes. 

There  were  hurried  good-byes,  and  Gallup 
sprang  for  the  yacht's  stairway.  The  ocean  bird 
stirred  and  spread  her  wings.  Then  the  American- 
built  yacht  swooped  lightly  and  gracefully  out- 
ward in  her  race  to  overhaul  her  European-built 
sister  craft. 

But  although  they,  who  were  on  board,  strained 
their  eyes  for  a  last  glimpse  of  the  solitary  one 
who  watched  their  departure  from  the  motor  boat, 
they  could  not  see  him  as  he  read  the  letter  Mrs. 
Frobisher  put  into  his  hands  at  parting.  And 
from  the  expression  of  his  face  and  what  he  said 
and  did,  after  reading  it,  perhaps  it  was  just  as 
well  for  them  to  remain  in  complete  ignorance  of 
its  stirring  contents — at  least  for  the  time  being. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 
THE  LEAVEN  OF  SELFLESSNESS 

Before  twenty-four  hours  had  passed,  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher  was  by  way  of  being  a  transformed  woman. 

In  her  earlier  days  she  had  taken  life  as  it  came, 
never  thinking,  never  reasoning,  never  grateful — 
simply  strongly  sensuous  and  ever  greedy  for 
more  of  this  world's  pleasures. 

Her  rapid  rise  from  poverty  to  the  extreme  of 
opulence  had  simply  brought  to  light  the  innate 
vulgarity  of  her  nature.  In  her  husband  it  had 
bred  a  lust  of  power  whose  violence  often  terrified 
her  by  its  octupus-like  versatility. 

The  trouble  which  had  been  brewing  for  the  last 
year  had  not  greatly  disturbed  her.  For  years  she 
had  seen  the  terrible  power  of  their  wealth  permit 
them  to  ride  rough  shod,  not  only  over  persons  and 
things,  but  over  legislation.  She  had  seen  her  hus- 
band make  and  unmake  laws,  buy  law-makers, 
pardon  criminals,  imprison  innocent  men,  open 
closed  doors  of  whatever  sort,  except  the  one 
golden,  unattainable  door  of  Society,  which  she 
had  never  stormed  openly,  but  for  whose  unclos- 
ing she  had  always  secretly  yearned. 

All  these  things  she  had  gazed  on  carelessly,  un- 
thinking and  unreasoning,  like  many  of  her  kind. 
Nothing  had  ever  touched  her  heart  or  made  her 
feel.  Her  swinish  conceit  was  absolute.. 

Then  came  the  terror  of  seeing  her  husband 
reach  out  after  the  one  thing  to  which  he  had 
never  before  given  a  thought,  and  therefore  which 
had  never  troubled  her,  namely,  another  woman. 

294 


THE  LEAVEN  OF   SELFISHNESS      225 

For  some  time  after  he  first  began  to  torture  her 
with  the  hitherto  unknown  pangs  of  jealousy,  she 
believed  that  it  was  inspired  by  his  natural 
restlessness  and  the  usual  desire  for  a  new  world 
to  conquer,  which  always  attacked  him  when  his 
last  plan  had  either  hopelessly  miscarried  or  come 
to  an  equally  distasteful,  because  successful,  con- 
clusion. To  a  man  of  his  type,  all  the  joy  of  liv- 
ing lay  in  the  achieving.  Never  in  the  achieved. 
And,  so  stupid  was  her  belief  in  her  own  luck,  she 
never  dreamed  that  the  fatty  degeneration  of  her 
husband's  heart  could  actually  harbour  for  another 
specific  woman  a  passion  sufficiently  deep  to  cause 
him  to  take  the  final  step  he  had  constantly  threat- 
ened, until  she  received  the  letter  which,  at  part- 
ing, she  had  given  into  Howard  Gallup's  hands. 

In  response  to  the  frenzy  of  jealousy  which 
racked  her,  she  had,  with  her  usual  courage,  taken 
the  only  alternative  left  her,  of  pursuing  her  flee- 
ing husband  by  the  only  means  at  hand,  even 
though  this  brought  her  into  direct  contact  with 
Mrs.  Cravanath,  whose  name,  for  twelve  years,  had 
stood,  in  her  mind,  for  the  avenger  in  which  almost 
every  man  and  woman  believes  and  fears,  in  some 
name  or  guise.  Her  husband's  letter  had  put  her 
in  possession  of  the  facts  of  both  Angela's  identity 
and  of  Mrs.  Cravanath's  presence  in  the  Arbuthnot 
household,  therefore  she  was  quite  aware  of  the 
personnel  of  those  she  would  face,  ere  her  rather 
impertinently  intrusive  request  had  been  granted. 

Had  Midge  been  the  court  of  last  appeal,  Mrs. 
Frobisher  would  never  have  chanced  it.  But 
knowledge  of  Mrs.  Arbuthnot's  gentle  generosity 
and  sweet  kindliness,  gleaned  from  chance  sources, 
let  Mrs.  Frobisher  to  make  her  desperate  attempt. 
Her  success,  coming  so  easily,  after  her  hours  of 
torturing  suspense,  affected  her  like  a  physical 


226  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

sickness.  She  felt  unnerved  and  weak  from  the 
reaction. 

Pleading  fatigue,  she  went  below,  satisfied,  but 
not  in  the  least  touched,  at  finding  herself  assigned 
to  one  of  the  best  suites  on  board  the  luxurious 
yacht,  whose  refinement  of  furnishings  struck  her 
unpleasantly,  and  filled  her  mind  with  contempt. 

She  remained  below  until  the  next  day  at  noon, 
to  the  reJief  of  Midge,  but  anxiety  of  Bettie. 

When  Mrs.  Frobisher  finally  appeared,  she 
greeted  those  nearest  her  perfunctorily,  and  went 
by  herself  to  a  retired  portion  of  the  deck,  where 
the  steward  settled  her  in  comfort. 

Midge  frankly  refused  to  go  near  her,  but  sent 
Alan  to  ask  if  she  wished  anything. 

After  he  had  returned,  Bettie  stood  the  sight  of 
the  solitary  figure  as  long  as  she  could.  Then, 
with  a  murmured  apology  to  Mrs.  Cravanath,  but 
not  a  glance  in  Midge's  direction,  she  gathered  up 
her  cushions  and  magazines  and  field  glasses  and 
made  her  way  to  Mrs.  Frobisher's  side,  followed 
by  the  approving  eyes  of  the  silent  invalid,  and 
the  tender  adoring  mockery  of  her  daughter's. 

To  say  that  Mrs.  Frobisher  was  flattered  by  this 
attention  from  the  mistress  of  the  yacht  was  stat- 
ing it  mildly.  She  had  expected  to  be  taken  on 
board  reluctantly,  permitted  simply  because  of  her 
impudence.  And  once  aboard,  she  anticipated 
what  she  herself  would  have  visited  upon  a  similar 
intruder.  She  remembered  how  once  she  had  in- 
sisted upon  keeping  the  last  cabin,  which  held 
three,  on  board  an  Austrian-Lloyd  steamer,  for  her 
maid  alone,  thereby  causing  a  delicate  lady  who 
needed  a  berth  to  sit  up  all  night,  and  she  had 
done  this  simply  to  show  other  passengers  the  power 
of  the  Frobisher  wealth.  This  incident  came  back 
to  her  mind,  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  as  Mrs. 


THE   LEAVEN  OF   SELFISHNESS      227 

Arbuthnot  sat  by  her  side  all  of  that  long  after- 
noon, and  made  charming  conversation,  into  which 
Mrs.  Frobisher  was  able  to  enter  at  her  best. 

Both  ladies  could  see  that  the  yacht  was  not 
travelling  in  any  specific  direction.  She  was  cir- 
cling about,  transmitting  and  receiving  messages 
by  wireless,  but  evidently  not  starting  upon  her 
cruise.  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  was  anxious  to  know  why, 
but  naturally  could  not  indulge  in  any  comments 
upon  so  obviously  delicate  a  situation.  Nor  did 
anyone  disturb  them  with  news. 

Finally,  over  the  teacups,  when  her  hostess  had 
thoroughly  placed  Mrs.  Frobisher  at  her  ease,  Bet- 
tie  could  see  from  her  nervous  manner,  that  some 
confidence  from  her  guest  was  imminent. 

"Mrs.  Arbuthnot,"  she  said  finally,  "you  have 
been  very  kind  to  me  this  afternoon,  and  your 
whole  family  were  nice  to  allow  me  to  come  with 
you.  Now,  as  we  are  to  be  thrown  in  each  other's 
company  in  a  way  I  had  not  expected,  I  find  that 
we  can't  talk  very  much  more,  with  needing  to 
have  certain  things  cleared  up  a  little.  To  begin 
with,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  am  not  in  a  very 
friendly  state  of  mind  toward  my  husband.  In 
fact,  there  is  every  reason  for  me  to  anticipate  a 
final  separation  between  us.  He  wants  me  to  di- 
vorce him,  and  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  showing 
him  how  I  have  planned  to  give  him  his  freedom 
that  I  got  your  son  to  promise  to  let  me  board  the 
Koenigin  Luise,  as  soon  as  we  find  her — if  we  ever 
do.  Therefore  we  are  both  equally  anxious  to  find 
Mr.  Frobisher,  and — possibly,  equally  unfriendly 
in  our  feelings  toward  him.  So  now,"  concluded 
Mrs.  Frobisher,  handsomely,  "you  can  say  any- 
thing mean  about  him  that  you  want  to,  and 
there'll  be  no  kick  coming  from  me!" 

"  But  I  assure  you,"  cried  Bettie,  with  crimson- 


228  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

ing  cheeks,  "  I  have  no  wish  to  say  anything — dis- 
agreeable about  your  husband !  I  never  have  done 
so,  nor  do  we  make  a  practice  of  it.  You  have 
been  most  tactful  to  try  to  set  us  at  our  ease,  so 
that  we  may  at  least  discuss  the  situation  of  the 
best  direction  to  pursue,  but  as  for  expressing  in 
your  presence  our  personal  opinions  of  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher — that  would  not  be  our  wish  at  all." 

Mrs.  Frobisher  looked  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  over  from 
head  to  foot,  while  Bettie's  red  cheeks  attested  to 
her  discomfort. 

"I  believe  you,  Mrs.  Arbuthnot,"  she  said, 
finally,  "  though  I  don't  think  I  would  believe  any- 
body else  in  the  wrorld  who  said  such  a  thing  under 
the  circumstances.  But  you  are  different  from, 
anyone  I  have  ever  known.  I've  always  let  myself 
say  anything  I  wanted  to,  but  now  for  the  first 
time  I  am  beginning  to  wonder  if  it  pays.  Per- 
haps it  would  have  been  better  sometimes  just  to 
think  things  and  not  spit  everything  out.  I  do 
believe  you  are  as  good  as  everybody  says  you 
are!" 

Bettie's  discomfort  under  these  remarks  was  so 
intense  that  she  rose  hastily.  "  Don't  go !  "  cried 
Mrs.  Frobisher.  "  Tell  me,  haven't  you  any  news 
of  the  whereabouts  of  our  yacht?  " 

"I  really  don't  know.  Shall  I  ask  my  hus- 
band?" 

"I  wish  you  would.  I've  been  thinking  things 
over,  and  perhaps  I  could  help  you." 

Mr.  Arbuthnot  came  in  response  to  his  wife's 
message. 

"No,  we  aon't,  Mrs.  Frobisher,"  he  said,  frankly, 
when  his  wife  had  briefly  explained  how  matters 
stood  between  them  and  their  guest. 

"I  think  I  know  what  he  is  up  to,"  said  Mrs. 
Frobisher  with  tightening  lips.  "  I  know  Mr.  Gal- 


THE  LEAVEN  OF  SELFLESSNESS   229 

lup  and  I  were  in  the  right  tug.  You  see  he  used 
a  tug  because  the  launches  are  too  well  known  and 
watched.  In  my  opinion,  at  the  last  moment,  he 
took  another  tug  and  left  the  first  one  for  me,  with 
instructions  to  make  me  lose  my  way  and  miss 
going  aboard.  As  I  explained  to  Mrs.  Arbuthnot, 
my  husband  and  I  have  had  serious  domestic 
trouble.  Now,  as  he  has  always  been  sure  your 
son  would  follow  him  on  the  Altcssa,  it  is  my 
opinion  that  he  is  lying  off  somewhere,  greatly  en- 
joying your  discomfiture,  and  receiving  just  as 
many  wireless  messages  of  our  flight  as  we  are 
sending  out!" 

Mr.  Arbuthnot's  face  flushed  slightly,  but  he  said 
nothing. 

"  If  you  want  to  draw  him  from  his  hiding-place 
and  make  him  come  out  and  show  his  colours,  just 
start  full  speed  for  the  Island  of  Estrellada." 

The  eyes  of  all  three  met  in  a  look  of  complete 
understanding. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Frobisher,"  answered  Mr.  Ar- 
buthnot, after  an  instant  of  thought.  "  That  would 
suit  our  plans  admirably.  It  was  what  we  origi- 
nally intended  doing,  feeling  sure  that  he  would 
have  been  ahead  of  us." 

His  wife  shook  her  head. 

"  He  doesn't  want  to  go  there — unless  you  make 
him!"  she  said,  grimly. 

"  Excuse  me.  I  will  consult  my  son,  and  if  he 
agrees,  we  will  start  at  once ! " 

Bettie  turned  to  Mrs.  Frobisher  kindly. 

"  You  must  be  anxious  to  get  news  of  the  yacht, 
if  only  to  know  how  your  daughter  and  Angelica 
are !  "  she  said. 

"  She  is  not "  began  Mrs.  Frobisher  hastily. 

Then  she  added  more  slowly :  "  My  daughter  is 
not  worrying  me.  I'd  like  to  get  word  from  the 


230  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

yacht  for  other  reasons  more  than  to  hear  about 
her!" 

It  was  £rot  more  than  an  hour  after  this,  before 
the  Altessa  swung  slowly  around,  pointed  her  bow 
due  South,  and,  ignoring  all  other  craft,  steamed 
silently  but  with  ever-increasing  speed  outward  in 
the  ocean  pathway  of  the  great  liners  whose  peer 
she  was. 

Seeing  this,  Mrs.  Frobisher  heaved  a  great  sigh 
of  relief,  and  went  below  to  dress  for  dinner. 

A  gleam  of  malice  shone  in  her  hard  eyes,  as  she 
felt  by  the  motion  of  the  boat  that  they  were  really 
out  at  sea  and  had  started  in  earnest. 

"Don't  I  know,"  she  said  to  herself,  "that, 
wherever  he  is,  he  sees  just  what  we  are  doing! 
He  hasn't  really  believed,  so  far,  that  Ayres  Ar- 
buthnot  knew.  But  now,  he  sees  by  the  way  we 
are  going,  that  the  Arbuthnots  do  know,  and  it 
frightens  him.  But  what  will  frighten  him  more 
than  anything  else,  will  be  when  he  sees  me,  know- 
ing what  I  do,  and  what  the  Arbuthnots  don't ! " 

She  turned  away  from  her  mirror,  and  as  she  re- 
membered Mrs.  Arbuthnot's  courtesy  of  the  after- 
noon, the  hardness  faded  from  her  eyes. 

"I'm  glad,"  she  murmured,  half  aloud,  "that 
they  don't  know — yet!  They'd  worry,  and  some- 
how, I  don't  seem  to  want  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  to 
worry.  She's — well,  she's  next  door  to  an  angel! 
That's  what  she  is!" 


CHAPTER   XXIY 
THE  AWAKENING  OF 


In  breathless  haste,  Mr.  Frobisher  met  Angela 
and  her  maid,  and,  scarcely  giving  them  time  to 
gather  their  hand  luggage  from  the  brougham,  he 
hurried  them  down  a  slippery  and  evil  -smelling 
wharf,  where  merchandise  of  every  description  was 
piled  high,  on  either  side  as  if  for  loading,  and 
where  passengers  were  evidently  unexpected  from 
the  manner  in  which  these  three  had  to  pick  their 
way  in  order  not  to  foul  their  shoes. 

A  not  over-clean  little  tug,  with  her  prow  cov- 
ered with  some  heavy  material  to  prevent  its  ram- 
ming, was  moored  alongside. 

Into  this  tug  they  were  hurried,  and  scarcely 
had  their  feet  touched  the  deck  when  the  order  to 
cast  off  was  given,  and  with  important  puffings 
and  snortings,  the  little  craft  steamed  out  and 
slipped  with  incredible  swiftness  down  the  bay. 

Angela  paid  no  attention  to  the  direction  they 
took.  She  was  too  much  occupied  in  wondering 
why  the  luxury-loving  Ralph  Frobisher  should 
travel,  even  for  a  short  distance,  in  such  a  wretched 
little  boat.  She  did  not  know  that  they  were 
aboard  the  Susie  C.,  the  swiftest  tug  in  the  har- 
bour, engaged  purposely  because  she  never  carried 
passengers,  and  therefore  would  not  come  under 
suspicion.  The  magnificent  launches  of  the  Koe- 
nigin  Luise  still  lay  at  the  yacht  club's  wharf, 
while  the  other  tug,  which  the  detectives  of  Ayres 
Arbuthnot  were  watching,  lay  alongside  another 
pier. 

231 


232  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  Where  is  Aunt  Maude?  "  asked  Angela,  as  Mr. 
Frobisher,  in  his  uneasy  pacing  of  the  deck,  passed 
her. 

"  She  is  already  aboard.  I  sent  Evangeline  and 
Ned  and  your  aunt  down  in  the  launch.  I  waited 
to  bring  you  myself." 

"  That  was  kind  of  you,"  said  Angela,  wistfully. 
She  was  not  looking  at  him  as  she  spoke,  and  her 
wistfulness  was  for  her  mother  and  the  Arbuth- 
nots.  She  had  undertaken  this  cruise  from  a  stern 
sense  of  duty,  and  already  the  pangs  of  loneliness 
were  beginning  to  oppress  her. 

"  I  am  sure  I  want  to  be  kind  to  you,  Angela — 
I  mean  Angelica !  " 

The  girl  turned  instantly,  but  his  inscrutable 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  distant  horizon,  and,  fear- 
ing to  say  the  wrong  thing,  Angela  said  nothing. 

She  felt  uncomfortable.  Mr.  Frobisher  disap- 
peared, and  Angela  was  alone. 

Hour  after  hour  dragged  by.  Shipping  grew 
less.  The  wind  blew  more  keenly,  and  darkness 
descended  upon  them.  Angela  wrapped  herself  in 
furs  and  tried  not  to  be  anxious,  but  her  heart  was 
heavy. 

As  she  waited,  with  an  unusual  patience,  she 
heard  footsteps,  and  presently  Ralph  Frobisher 
approached  and  seated  himself  beside  her.  She 
saw  at  once  that  he  had  been  drinking. 

"  Angela,"  he  said,  "  you  are  a  brave  girl,  aren't 
you?" 

"  I  hope  so,  Uncle  Ralph,"  she  answered. 

"  Don't  call  me  ( Uncle  Ralph  ' !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Never  call  me  that  again.  Call  me  Ralph,  if  you 
like,  but  cut  out  the  '  uncle ' !  " 

"Why,  I  could  not  possibly  call  you  Ralph," 
said  Angela.  "  I  will  call  you  Mr.  Frobisher,  if  I 
may ! " 


THE   AWAKENING   OF   ANGELA      233 

"  Why  can't  you  call  me  Kalph?  Am  I  too  old? '' 
He  leaned  toward  her  as  he  spoke,  and  she  drew 
back  involuntarily. 

"  Yes,  you  are  much  too  old !"  she  answered  with 
spirit. 

"  You  are  brave ! "  muttered  the  man.  "  You've 
got  more  sand  than  any  girl  I  ever  knew.  You 
may  need  it  all  before  this  cruise  is  over.  I'm  a 
hunted  man,  Angela !  " 

She  made  no  reply. 

"How  much  longer  before  we  reach  the  yacht?" 
she  asked  presently. 

"Not  long.    Are  you  tired?" 

"I  am  tired,  and  cold,  and  hungry,"  answered 
Angela,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  What  a  brute  I  am ! "  exclaimed  the  man.  "  I 
told  your  maid  to  pack  a  luncheon.  Hasn't  she 
brought  you  anything?  " 

"  I  haven't  seen  her  since  we  came  aboard,"  an- 
swered Angela. 

"I'll  go  and  look  for  her,"  said  Mr.  Frobisher, 
rising  and  striding  away. 

He  was  gone  some  twenty  minutes,  and  Angela 
had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  when  the  sound  of 
men's  laughter  reached  her  from  the  cabin. 

Presently  he  came  with  a  plate  and  a  glass. 

"  I  couldn't  find  her.  Probably  she  is  off  in  some 
corner  flirting  with  one  of  the  men.  Here,  hold 
this  glass  while  I  pour  you  some  champagne.  Take 
your  plate  first." 

"Don't  give  me  any  cnampagne,"  said  Angela. 
"  I  don't  care  for  it." 

"Why  not?"  he  said.  "You  'drink  it  at 
dinner ! " 

"  I  only  taste  it  to  please  Aunt  Maude.  I  needn't 
drink  it  here,  because  I  don't  want  it.  Please  don't 
ask  me  to." 


234  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  I  do  ask  you  to,  because  it's  good  for  you.  We 
are  running  into  quite  a  sea,  and  champagne  is 
good  for  seasickness." 

"  I  won't  be  seasick,"  answered  Angela. 

"Well,  take  some,  anyway — just  to  please  me" 
said  Mr.  Frobisher. 

"  No !  Please !  I  hate  the  stuff !  "  cried  Angela, 
in  sudden  alarm.  She  half  started  from  her  seat, 
but  the  man  put  out  his  arm  to  restrain  her.  She 
sank  back  but  drew  away  from  him. 

"  There,  there ! "  he  said,  soothingly.  "  You 
needn't  if  you  don't  want  to.  You  can  always 
have  your  own  way,  as  long  as  you  are  with  me, 
my  dear ! " 

Angela  moved  a  trifle  impatiently  in  her  seat. 
She  tried  to  eat,  but  something  prevented  her. 
Her  heart  was  beating  heavily.  Fright  at  a  name- 
less something  which  menaced,  seemed  to  take  pos- 
session of  her. 

"What  is  that  big  ship?"  she  asked.  " It  looks 
as  if  we  were  going  to  run  into  her ! " 

"  It's  the  yacht ! "  answered  Mr.  Frobisher,  in  a 
gratified  voice.  "  Did  you  think  she  was  an  ocean 
liner?  She's  as  big  as  some  of  them,  but  when 
you're  once  aboard  of  her,  you'll  see  the  difference ! 
Come!  It  won't  be  ten  minutes  now,  till  we're 
alongside.  By  Jove,  the  Captain  has  made  the 
run  in  record  time.  He's  won  his  money.  I  prom- 
ised him  five  hundred  dollars  if  he  got  us  on  board 
by  seven  o'clock.  We'll  have  dinner  right  away. 
I'm  starving ! " 

He  hurried  away  without  further  parley.  He 
was  always  a  selfish  man,  attending  to  his  own 
wants  first,  and  remembering  others  only  when 
brought  to  his  attention. 

Realising  after  a  moment  that  no  one  was  com- 
ing to  look  after  her,  Angela  stumbled  to  her  feet 


THE  AWAKENING  OF   ANGELA      235 

on  the  swaying  deck,  and  gathering  her  things  to- 
gether, she  slowly  made  her  unsteady  way  to  where 
she  could  see  them  hauling  the  luggage  aboard  the 
yacht,  up  whose  steep  sides  she  wondered  how  it 
would  be  possible  for  her  to  go. 

Everywhere  were  the  signs  of  secrecy,  caution 
and  dispatch.  Orders  were  given  in  low  tones. 
Lights  were  few.  Mr.  Frobisher  gave  Angela  scant 
attention  when  he  looked  down  and  saw  her  stand- 
ing at  his  side,  weighted  writh  wraps  and  bags, 
which  he  did  not  offer  to  take. 

He  gnawed  his  nails  and  swore  softly  under  his 
breath  at  the  clumsiness  of  the  sailors. 

He  even  started  to  board  the  yacht  ahead  of  her, 
but  something  in  her  astonished  glance  must  have 
reminded  him,  for  he  stood  back,  wTith  a  muttered 
apology,  and  let  her  go  first. 

As  she  felt  herself  hoisted  aboard,  like  an  ani- 
mated bale  of  merchandise,  Angela  again  experi- 
enced that  sensation  of  some  unknown  fear  clutch- 
ing at  her  heart. 

A  moment  later,  however,  the  brilliant  lights  of 
the  saloon,  its  warmth,  splendour  and  wealth  of 
flowers,  reassured  her.  It  was  like  a  glimpse  of 
fairyland. 

A  maid  appeared  and  took  her  things. 

"Will  you  see  your  rooms,  mademoiselle?"  she 
asked.  "  Ah,  you  will  find  them  so  beautiful !  And 
all  prepared  for  you!" 

The  girl  fairly  gasped  as  she  entered.  Done  in 
ivory  and  gold,  filled  with  flowers  whose  perfume 
permeated  every  corner,  Angela  looked  around 
the  beautiful  rooms  in  amaze. 

She  turned  suddenly  as  she  heard  a  footstep  be- 
hind her.  The  maid  disappeared. 

"Do  you  like  your  quarters,  commodore?" 
asked  the  voice  of  Ralph  Frobisher. 


236.  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

"  Like  them !  "  cried  Angela,  warmly.  "  I  never 
dreamed  of  anything  so  lovely!" 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  them,"  said  the  man,  "  for 
you  will  probably  be  in  them  for  some  time.  Your 
Aunt  Maude,  at  the  last  moment,  refused  to  come 
with  us,  and  kept  Evangeline  and  Ned  on  shore 
with  her.  That  leaves  us  alone — you  and  I !  Are 
you  afraid — Angela  ?  " 

White  with  horror  the  girl  stared  at  him  until 
his  meaning  began  to  dawn  on  her. 

Then  she  spoke. 

"Why  do  you  call  me  Angela?"  she  said. 

He  smiled. 

"Because  it  is  your  name.  You  are  not  my 
niece.  I  have  known  that  for  some  time." 

An  overpowering  terror  almost  stopped  her 
breathing.  Supposing  he  knew  her  to  be  Christo- 
pher Cravanath's  daughter  and  were  taking  her  to 
share  her  father's  fate? 

"Who  am  I,  then?"  she  asked,  in  a  voice  so 
unnatural  that  it  scarcely  seemed  her  own. 

He  took  a  sudden  step  toward  her,  his  heavy 
face  lighting  up  as  if  by  magic,  and  though  she 
dreaded  his  answer,  Angela  merely  straightened 
herself  and  looked  him  in  the  eye  courageously. 

"You  are  the  woman  I  love  and  the  reason  why 
my  wife  refused  to  come  with  me ! "  he  said  in  a 
voice  hoarse  with  feeling. 

For  a  moment  heart  and  breath  alike  failed  the 
girl.  In  the  first  blinding  flash,  the  horror  of  her 
present  peril  made  her  former  fear  of  sharing  her 
father's  fate  seem  small  in  comparison.  She  stood 
simply  looking  at  him,  but  something  command- 
ing in  the  purity  and  fearlessness  of  her  gaze  ar- 
rested the  evil  intentions  of  the  man  so  that  he 
made  not  the  slightest  attempt  to  approach  her. 
albeit  his  covetous  eyes  enveloped  her  from  head 
to  foot 


THE  AWAKENING    OF   ANGELA      237 

In  moments  of  dire  peril,  a  woman  is  always 
sustained  by  her  strongest  defence.  As  Angela 
alone  and  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  a  man  whose 
passions  had  always  been  his  masters,  stood  tam- 
ing the  beast  in  his  mind  by  the  dove  in  hers,  she 
conquered  her  fear  first,  and  in  that  one  victory, 
the  immature,  girlish  heart  within  her  disappeared 
for  ever,  and  the  heart  of  a  woman  was  born  in  its 
place. 

It  took  courage  to  stand  quietly  and  face  him, 
for  the  look  in  his  eyes  which  had  vaguely  disqui- 
eted her  in  times  past,  was  bent  on  her  in  that  mo- 
ment of  immunity  from  all  human  interruption, 
in  all  its  intensity  and  lawlessness.  She  realised 
that  the  very  daring  of  this  final  coup  de  theatre, 
by  which  this  man  had  rid  himself  of  wife  and 
family  and  put  off  to  sea  with  the  girl  he  loved, 
was  indicative  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  ac- 
customed to  ride  over  all  laws,  human  and  divine, 
and  to  shatter  vows  and  promises  as  carelessly  as 
he  would  dash  a  wineglass  to  its  fate  after  a  final 
toast  of  flamboyant  sentiment.  Still,  Angela  never 
faltered.  Every  atom  of  her  spiritual  strength 
was  gathering  itself  together  to  resist  what  men- 
aced her  from  her  captor's  bestial  gaze.  Yet  she 
faced  him  courageously,  for  she  knew  that  she  was 
safe. 

It  was  he  who  lowered  his  gaze  first. 

"Don't  look  so  white,  my  little  girl,"  he  said,  in 
tones  which  trembled  with  feeling.  "  I  don't  want 
you  to  be  afraid  of  me.  I  have  loved  you  almost 
from  the  day  you  came  into  my  house,  but  I  am 
so  old-fashioned,  I  was  ashamed  to  have  fallen  in 
love  with  my  own  niece.  Still,  I  meant  to  have 
you,  in  the  end,  no  matter  who  you  were.  I  don't 
give  in  to  scruples.  I  override  them.  But  I  must 
admit  that  this  one  made  me  so  uncomfortable  that 
th«  cheapest  fifty  thousand  dollars  I  ever  paid  in 


238  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

iny  life,  was  the  one  I  paid  to  a  man  for  the  infor- 
mation that  yon  were  not  my  niece  at  all,  but  An- 
gela Cravanath  instead!" 

"You  paid  that?"  said  Angela.    "To  whom?" 

"  To  Marvin  Cray !  He  has  done  you  some  pretty 
bad  turns  in  your  life,  hasn't  he,  my  girl?  Well, 
you  can  hate  him  all  you  like.  He  deserves  it." 

"  I  don't  hate  him,"  said  Angela.  "  It  wasn't  his 
fault" 

"You  mean  it  was  mine?  Now  don't  you  go 
to " 

"  No,"  interrupted  Angela  quietly.  "  I  don't 
mean  that  it  was  yours  either." 

"Then,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now.  Sometime  I  will.  I  want 
to  be  alone  now.  May  I?" 

There  was  a  note  of  appeal  in  her  beautiful 
voice  which  struck  an  answering  chord  in  the  man's 
heart. 

"  Yes,  you  may !  "  he  cried.  "  I  will  take  only 
one  kiss  and  then  I  will  go." 

He  stole  swiftly  toward  her.  He  saw  her  lift 
herself  and  stiffen.  He  saw  her  lips  lose  their 
colour  and  her  eyes  darken.  He  heard  the  faint 
grinding  of  her  teeth  as  her  very  soul  revolted  from 
his  vilely  meant  caress.  Then  something  stopped 
him.  His  hands  unclenched.  His  body's  tension 
relaxed.  He  shrank  back  before  the  steadiness  of 
her  gaze. 

"  Well — not  to-night,"  he  muttered  lamely.  "  I 
won't  tease  you  to-night.  As  long  as  we  are  to  be 
alone  together  for  so  many  weeks,  I  can  wait." 

He  turned  swiftly  on  his  heel  and  left  her  with- 
out a  backward  glance. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE  SLAVE  OF  PASSION 

Filled  skin  full  of  the  weakest  vanity,  nothing 
so  irritated  Ralph  Frobisher  as  to  know  that  he 
was  in  a  position  where  he  might  be  laughed  at. 

For  three  days  the  Koenigin  Luise  had  been  sail- 
ing eagerly  after  the  apparently  oblivious  Altessa, 
whose  swift  flight  kept  an  appreciable  distance  be- 
tween them  with  apparent  ease,  and  for  three  days 
the  yacht's  master  had  known  that  the  whole 
crew  were  ridiculing  him. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  he  was  in  a 
worse  humour  than  usual.  He  had  seen  with  his 
own  eyes  the  French  maid  he  had  engaged  for  An- 
gela, laugh  behind  her  apron,  as  he  came  into  view. 

They  all  knew,  then!  Everybody  3n  board — all 
his  carefully  picked  crew,  selected  with  extremest 
care  for  just  such  a  lawless  cruise  as  his  reckless 
mood  demanded — knew  that  his  greatest  plan  had 
miscarried,  and  that  his  proposed  prey  had  locked 
herself  in  her  suite  of  rooms,  and  under  the  plea 
of  indisposition  had  refused  either  to  come  out  or 
permit  even  the  maid  to  enter.  Only  when  the 
steward,  whom  she  instinctively  trusted,  fetched 
her  the  daintiest  of  meals  would  she  slip  the  bolts 
of  the  doors  behind  which  she  had  entrenched 
herself. 

The  first  two  days,  rough  weather  had  given  him 
an  excuse  to  pretend  to  believe  her,  but  the  sea 
had  so  calmed  that  on  this  morning  the  ill-timed 
mirth  of  the  maid,  whose  entire  attitude  was  one 

839 


240  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

of  bright  malice  rejoicing  in  his  predicament, 
roused  him  almost  to  a  frenzy. 

A  man  who  is  the  slave  to  any  or  all  of  his  evil 
passions  is  one  of  the  most  pitiable  sights  of  this 
latter-day  panorama  of  humanity.  Kalph  Frobisher 
was  helpless  in  the  grip  of  his  octopus-like  evil  na- 
ture. His  bloodshot  eyes,  his  gnawed  fingers,  his 
trembling  frame,  his  powerful  hunched  shoulders, 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  a  man  in  the  clutches 
of  disease.  His  anxiety  at  the  determined  south- 
erly course  of  the  Altessa,  combined  with  the  state 
of  affairs  on  board  the  Koenigin  Luise,  convinced 
him  that  instead  of  having  achieved  his  freedom, 
he  was  practically  making  his  last  stand. 

Why  he  did  not  put  out  to  sea  with  Angela  and 
escape  from  everything  and  everybody  who  men- 
aced him,  he  himself  could  not  understand. 

In  spite  of  everything  to  the  contrary,  he  had 
not  really  believed  that  the  Arbuthnots  would,  on 
the  scant  knowledge  he  supposed  they  possessed, 
set  sail  for  Estrellada,  for,  with  the  death  of  Don 
Rafael,  Ralph  Frobisher  believed  that  the  only  man 
who  actually  knew  of  the  whereabouts  of  Chris- 
topher Cravanath,  was  dead.  Therefore,  although 
the  Altessa's  course  lay  due  south,  he  continued  to 
hope  that  her  owner's  plans  were  otherwise,  or  their 
knowledge  was  of  necessity,  of  such  scant  measure 
that  it  could  not  seriously  menace  him.  At  pres- 
ent, he  was  allowing  his  overpowering  curiosity  and 
his  inability  to  keep  out  of  what  appeared  to  be  an 
enticing  complication,  or  a  teasing,  unknown  lead 
of  the  enemy,  to  override  his  cooler  judgment. 

Had  he  known  either  of  two  facts — the  knowl- 
edge Ayres  Arbuthnot  possessed  or  the  presence  on 
board  the  Altessa  of  his  forsaken  and  abandoned 
wife,  his  courage  would  have  risen  to  its  fighting 
height  sooner. 


THE    SLAVE   OF    PASSION  241 

Absorbed  as  he  was  in  trailing  the  Altessa,  he 
fonnd  time  to  consider  descending  to  the  point  of 
giving  orders  to  force  the  doors  of  Angela's  retreat 
and  exhibit  to  his  crew  the  spectacle  of  a  master 
of  strategic  finesse  compelled  to  use  the  brute  force 
of  the  primitive  cave  dweller.  But  even  as  he  hes- 
itated, his  tumultuous  passion  for  the  beautiful 
girl  plunged  him  into  new  depths  of  despair  at  her 
continued  scorn  of  him. 

Never  had  he  expended  the  energy  and  concen- 
tration on  any  of  his  gigantic  business  affairs  that 
he  now  brought  to  bear  upon  the  conquering  of 
Angela's  untamed  and  entrenched  spirit.  But 
nothing  produced  the  slightest  effect. 

Within  her  magnificent  prison,  the  girl  thought 
only  of  one  thing,  and  that  was  the  wonder  and 
marvel  of  her  newly  discovered  love  for  Ayres 
Arbuthnot. 

Hitherto,  her  heart  had  opened  gently,  imper- 
ceptibly, and  unconsciously,  in  answer  to  the  ten- 
der chivalry  of  his  love  for  her. 

It  needed  the  shock  of  some  danger  to  rouse  this 
tardy  consciousness  of  hers  and  show  her  where 
her  affections  were  really  placed,  for  in  the  same 
moment  that  an  evil  love  affronted  the  purity  of 
her  virgin  dreams,  the  veil  was  torn  from  her  slum- 
bering woman's  heart,  and  she  gazed  into  its  depths 
with  astonishment  and  a  trembling  joy,  in  which 
mingled  a  delicate  sense  of  awe. 

Love  had  been  a  sealed  book  to  this  girl,  so  that 
when  she  realised  that  in  her  great  danger  she 
had  reached  out  instinctively  to  the  love  which  had 
been  quietly  enveloping  her  from  the  hour  in  which 
her  awakened  gaze  had  rested  on  her  lover's  face, 
and  that  now  an  answering  love,  deep,  pure,  and 
abiding,  had  leaped  to  meet  his,  she  was  filled  with 
conflicting  emotions. 


242  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

For  three  days  she  had  been,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  a  prisoner,  yet,  sustained  and  exalted  as 
she  was  by  the  discovery  of  her  love,  never  had 
three  days  passed  more  swiftly. 

Her  captor  imagined  her  pining  for  the  freedom 
of  the  decks  and  the  sights  of  sea  and  cloud, 
whereas,  had  she  possessed  it  all,  it  would  only 
have  ministered  to  her  dreams  of  one  man's  face, 
with  steady  grey  eyes  and  a  smile  which  revealed 
flashing  white  teeth. 

Angela  knew  that  the  Altessa  was  kept  in  com- 
mission, manned  and  provisioned  for  instantane- 
ous use.  She  knew  that  her  letters  must  have 
reached  both  Ayres  and  her  mother.  And,  even 
without  the  knowledge  that  Mrs.  Frobisher  was 
not  on  board  the  Koenigin  Luise,  Angela  felt  pro- 
foundly sure  that  Ayres  would  follow  the  Fro- 
bisher yacht.  This,  too,  served  to  mitigate  the 
ennui  of  her  enforced  solitude.  In  fancy,  she  could 
picture  the  Altessa,  with  her  lover  on  board,  fol- 
lowing their  swift  flight,  little  dreaming  that  in 
reality  it  was  she  who  was,  at  present,  following 
him. 

Yet  sometimes,  it  must  be  owned,  that,  in  spite 
of  her  courage,  the  dragging  hours  palled  upon 
her.  It  was  deadly  dull,  this  having  no  one  to  talk 
to.  And  the  strain  of  not  knowing  how  long  it 
would  be  before  her  captor's  patience  snapped  and 
he  committed  some  violence,  alone  as  they  were  in 
the  midst  of  the  sea,  caused  her  to  live  under  a 
constant  tension. 

To  dispel  this,  she  invented  some  work. 

Her  rooms  were  literally  filled  with  flowers, 
which  were  changed  every  day.  The  steward 
brought  them  each  morning  and  she  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  arranging  them. 

On  one  of  her  visits  to  Midge  she  had  found 


243 

some  splendid  photographs  of  Ayres  tucked  away 
with  a  number  of  Midget's.  Angela  had  been  told 
to  make  her  own  selection.  So  she  chose  two  of 
Midge,  but  secretly  concealed  between  the  two,  was 
a  superb  likeness  of  Ayres.  It  was  just  a  head,  but 
the  photographer  had  caught  an  expression  so  typi- 
cal of  the  young  man  at  his  best — high-spirited, 
expectant,  alert,  and  far-seeing — that  Angela  re- 
joiced over  it  exceedingly. 

She  had  brought  it  with  her,  and,  being  affronted 
not  only  by  notes  and  messages  from  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher,  but  likewise  by  a  most  repellant  photograph 
of  him,  whose  eyes  followed  her  every  move,  she 
resolved  to  alter  matters  somewhat. 

She  removed  it  from  its  magnificent  frame,  put 
Ayres'  in  its  place,  rehung  it  over  the  mantel,  then 
banked  roses  solidly  from  the  floor  to  the  base  of 
the  picture  frame. 

She  fairly  rioted  in  her  task,  stripping  all  three 
of  her  rooms  of  their  choicest  blossoms  to  do 
service. 

She  did  this  on  the  morning  of  their  fifth  day 
out,  and  nothing  that  she  had  ever  done  gave  her 
more  satisfaction  than  the  expression  on  the  stew- 
ard's face  when  he  came  to  lay  her  luncheon  and 
saw  her  work.  In  that  one  glance  she  read  his 
hatred  of  his  master,  and  she  knew  that  she  had 
at  least  one  ally  and  one  friend  on  board. 

That  she  would  need  him  and  perhaps  soon, 
Angela  felt  sure,  for  Mr.  Frobisher's  notes  were 
becoming  more  exigent,  and  she  herself  felt  that  a 
crisis  was  approaching. 

The  steward  ventured  oniy  one  respectful  com- 
ment. 

"  Ye  have  rare  taste,  mem ! "  he  said. 

Then,  as  Angela  smiled  brilliantly  upon  him,  he 
added : 


244  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"  If  so  be  ye  might  be  needing  anything  or  any- 
body,  mem,  would  ye  kindly  remember  that  me 
name  is  McPherson,  and  that  three  rings  of  the 
steward's  bell  would  tell  me  to  come  quick?" 

Angela  gave  one  long  look  into  his  kindly  face. 
Then  she  went  toward  him  and  held  out  her  hand. 
The  man  flushed  with  embarrassment  as  he  gin- 
gerly took  her  slender  fingers  within  his  own,  and 
hastily  dropped  them  again,  proud  to  have  had  the 
privilege  of  shaking  hands  with  the  beautiful 
young  lady  he  was  so  fond  of  serving,  but  too  re- 
spectful to  presume  upon  it. 

"  I  will  remember,  McPherson,"  she  said. 

She  paused  a  moment  and  then  added : 

"  I  am  a  little  surprised  to  find  you  steward  of 
such  a  yacht." 

Instantly  the  man  made  answer: 

"  Indeed  and  did  ye  think  any  of  us  except  that 
French  hussy  knew  what  was  going  on?  I  can  tell 
ye  that  there  have  been  rare  fights  between  him 
and  his  missis  on  board  this  yacht  in  times  past,  but 
never  a  hint  of  what  is  happening  now !  But  you 
hold  out !  There'll  be  something  happening  soon !  " 

"Will  there,  McPherson?  Will  there?"  cried 
Angela.  "What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"  Because,  Miss," — here  he  lowered  his  voice  and 
came  toward  her — "the  wireless  operator  tells  me 
that  the  Altessa,  owned  by  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  and  the 
fastest  steam  yacht  afloat,  is  just  ahead  of  us." 

"  Ahead  of  us ! "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  Why " 

She  paused  suddenly  and  bit  her  lips.  Suppose 
McPherson  were  but  a  tool  of  her  captor,  sent  to 
draw  from  her  admissions  which  might  be  dam- 
aging? 

"  Are  you  sure  the  'Altessa  is  ahead?  Don't  you 
mean  following  us?  " 

"  I  mean  ahead  of  us,  mem !    We  are  just  trail- 


THE    SLAVE    OF    PASSION  245 

ing  her!  Mr.  Frobisher  thinks  that  whenever  tie 
wants  to,  he  can  overhaul  her!  I  wish  I  may  see 
the  day  he  orders  us  to  try  it ! " 

"You  don't  like  him,  then,"  said  Angela. 

The  man's  brows  lowered. 

"  I  have  come  to  hate  him !  "  he  growled.  "  And 
so  has  my  brother-in-law,  Angus  McLeod.  The  mas- 
ter made  us  both  hate  him  on  his  last  cruise,  and 
Angus  left  him.  He  is  the  best  yacht  captain  on  the 
high  seas.  Mr.  Arbuthnot  had  been  wanting  him 
for  two  years,  but  Angus  had  signed  with  Mr.  Fro- 
bisher, and  was  not  the  man  to  break  his  word. 
When  his  time  was  up,  he  went  to  Mr.  Arbuthnot, 
and  a  happy  man  was  Angus  to  get  his  hands  on  a 
yacht  which  can  beat  the  Koenigin  Luise.  If  ever 
Angus  gets  the  right  chance,  he  will  have  Ralph 
Frobisher's  life,  and  I,  for  one,  will  never  cry  him 
down  for  it." 

"  What  did  Mr.  Frobisher  do  to  your  brother-in- 
law  to  make  him  hate  him  so?"  asked  Angela. 

McPherson's  hands  clenched  at  his  side. 

"  'Twas  the  cruelty  of  the  thing,  mem ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  Maybe  'twould  have  happened  anyway, 
but — it  was  after  Mr.  Frobisher  found  that  the  berth 
of  captain  on  the  Altessa  was  open  to  Angus,  and 
that  Angus  had  said  he  would  not  sign  again  as 
mate  with  Mr.  Frobisher.  He  sent  for  Angus  and 
taxed  him  with  wanting  to  leave,  and  Angus  was 
just  courageous  enough  to  tell  him  'twas  the  truth. 
With  that  Mr.  Frobisher  offered  to  let  him  name 
his  own  figure  if  he  would  stay,  and  Angus  re- 
fused. Refusal  of  any  kind  seems  to  drive  that 
man  mad.  He  swore  a  bitter  oath  that  he  would 
get  even  with  Angus,  and  he  did.  He  bided  his 
time,  and  when  my  sister  Nellie,  Angus'  wife,  took 
sick  with  pneumonia,  and  Angus  wanted  shore 
leave  to  be  with  her  for  a  few  days  at  the  worst  of 


246  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

her  sickness,  Mr.  Frobisher  got  up  a  special  cruise 
of  only  a  week  in  bitter  weather,  and  took  a  party 
down  to  Hot  Springs,  just  to  keep  Angus  on  duty. 
When  we  got  back  eight  days  later  my  sister  was 
dead.  That's  all.  It  may  not  seem  much  to  the 
likes  of  you,  but  'twas  cruel  hard  on  me  and  him, 
for  we  were  both  rare  fond  of  her." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Angela,  with  humid  eyes.  "  I 
think  it  must  have  seemed  very  much!  I  am  not 
surprised  that  your  brother-in-law  was  incensed. 
How  does  it  happen  that  you  can  feel  as  you  do, 
and  yet  stay  in  his  employ?  " 

"My  time  is  up,  mem,"  answered  McPherson, 
"but  I  heard  rumours  of  something  queer  being  on 
foot,  and  I  thought  perhaps  my  duty  lay  in  ac- 
cepting his  offer  for  extra  wages  for  this  special 
cruise.  The  very  moment  I  saw  you,  mem,  and 
heard  from  that  French  hussy  that  the  missis  was 
left  on  purpose,  I  saw  clearly  the  reason  I  had 
stayed  aboard,  instead  of  chucking  my  job  the  day 
my  time  was  up.  You  may  need  McPherson,  mem, 
and  if  you  do — just  remember  that  it  was  my  sis- 
ter as  well  as  Angus  McLeod's  wife ! " 

As  the  man  left  the  room  and  Angela  slipped  the 
bolt  behind  him,  the  girl  realised  as  never  before 
how  the  man  who  held  her  fate  in  his  hands  was 
in  turn  the  prey  for  which  a  thousand  evils,  mostly 
of  his  own  creation,  were  fighting.  He  was  the 
victim  of  his  own  venomous  hate — the  slave  of  his 
own  unbridled  passions.  Angela  believed  strongly 
in  the  potency  and  reality  of  good,  but  she  saw  no 
promise  of  this  man's  yielding  himself  to  its  gov- 
erning principle. 

"  Only  with  thine  eyes,"  she  murmured  to  her- 
self, thinking  of  the  sweet  belief  Emelie  Cray  had 
instilled  into  her  mind,  "shall  thou  behold  and 
see  the  reward  of  the  wicked." 


THE   SLAVE   OF   PASSION  247 

She  threw  herself  down  on  a  couch  to  think 
things  over,  to  separate,  if  so  be,  the  real  from  the 
unreal,  and  try  to  figure  out  what  the  Altessa 
could  possibly  be  doing  in  the  lead. 

Finally  she  rang  for  McPherson. 

"Could  you  find  out  from  the  wireless  opera- 
tor," she  said,  "why  we  are  following  the 
'Altessa?" 

"I  will  try,  mem!  Thank  you!"  he  answered, 
highly  pleased  to  be  able  to  be  of  some  serv- 
ice. 

Twenty  minutes  passed  in  deep,  concentrative 
thought  on  Angela's  part,  when,  without  a  word 
or  sound  to  prepare  her  for  such  a  shock,  a  succes- 
sion of  short,  sharp  blows  fell  on  the  delicate  pan- 
elling of  the  door,  smashing  it  into  a  hundred 
fragments,  and  over  the  debris  Kalph  Frobisher 
stepped  into  the  room,  alone. 

Angela  started  to  her  feet  with  a  cry  of  terror. 

"  Don't,  Angela ! "  he  implored,  hoarsely.  "  Don't 
look  so  afraid  of  me!  If  you  hadn't  been  such  a 
fool  as  to  lock  yourself  in,  I  wouldn't  have  broken 
down  the  door.  You  have  only  yourself  to  blame. 
What's  the  matter  now?  " 

Angela  drew  herself  up  haughtily. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  being  called  a  fool," 
she  said,  coldly. 

"  Gee,  how  like  a  woman !  "  grinned  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher ;  "  madder  at  the  words  a  man  uses  than  at 
having  the  door  broken  open!  Though  perhaps 
you  regard  that  as  a  compliment?  Women  like 
impetuosity,  I  am  told!" 

Angela  simply  looked  at  him,  her  utter  contempt 
and  scorn  blazing  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well,  well !  "  he  growled  uncomfortably.  He 
tugged  at  his  collar  and  his  face  reddened. 

"Damn  it! "  he  burst  out,    "Why  do  you  stand 


248  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

there  simply  looking  at  me,  as  though  I  was  the 
dirt  under  your  feet?  Don't  you  know  who  I  am? 
Don't  you  know  what  I  can  do  for  you?  If  you 
will  only  let  me  love  you,  I'll  do  anything  in  the 
world  for  you.  I'll  settle  enough  money  on  you  so 
that  if  I  do  anything  you  don't  like,  you  can  quit 
me  at  a  moment's  notice.  And  don't  think  I  won't 
do  right  by  you.  After  we  get  home  from  this 
cruise,  the  old  lady  will  divorce  me  on  your  ac- 
count, and  then  I'll  marry  you.  New  York  will  be 
too  hot  to  hold  me,  but  we  can  live  in  Paris  for  a 
couple  of  years,  and  then  we'll  come  back  home. 
We  can,  by  that  time.  People  forget.  You  needn't 
look  at  me  like  that.  I  tell  you  they  do!  Why,  if 
the  crucifixion  itself  should  take  place  again  on  42d 
Street,  New  Yorkers  would  forget  it  in  two  years. 
I  know  'em ! " 

His  tone  suddenly  changed. 

"Angela,  don't  turn  me  down!  I  love  you,  I 
tell  you!  You  could  do  anything  with  me.  You 
are  all  alone  in  the  world.  Your  mother  will  never 
be  any  better " 

"  My  mother  is  almost  well ! "  declared  Angela 
with  emphasis. 

"  You  father  is  dead "  he  went  on,  as  if  she 

had  not  spoken.  His  manner  was  growing  more 
confident. 

<(  He  does  not  think  so ! "  said  Angela,  pointing 
with  her  slender  hand  and  arm  at  the  photograph 
of  Ayres  Arbuthnot,  with  its  altar  of  roses  be- 
neath it. 

Kalph  Frobisher  turned  and  looked  where  she 
pointed,  and  as  his  mind  took  in  what  she  had 
done  in  supplanting  his  own  portrait  with  that  of 
his  tormentor,  he  uttered  a  howl  of  rage  and 
started  toward  her. 

"  If  you  dare  to  tell  me  that  you  love  that  in- 
fernal cub,  I'll  kill  you  where  you  stand ! "  he 


THE    SLAVE    OF   PASSION  249 

cried,  beside  himself  with  anger  and  humilia- 
tion. 

"The  wireless  telegrams,  miss!"  said  the  voice 
of  McPherson  at  the  door. 

"  How  dare  you — how  dare  you  interrupt  me, 
you  low  hound ! "  shouted  his  master,  turning  on 
him  furiously. 

"  The  young  lady  gave  me  an  order,  and  you 
laid  your  commands  on  us  to  obey  her  every  re- 
quest on  the  second  or  we'd  get  the  sack ! "  replied 
McPherson,  with  appreciative  unction. 

The  owner  of  the  yacht  snatched  the  sheaf  of 
papers  from  the  steward's  hand  and  ran  his  eye 
over  them. 

"What's  this?"  he  cried.  "When  was  this  re- 
ceived? Why  wasn't  it  brought  to  me  at  once? 
Estrellada!  Altessa  bound  for  Estrellada.  That 
means " 

He  stopped  abruptly,  gnawing  his  fingers  and 
rumpling  his  hair,  as  if  suddenly  distraught.  He 
strode  up  and  down  once  or  twice,  as  forgetful  of 
Angela  and  McPherson  as  if  they  had  not  existed. 
And,  truth  to  tell,  at  that  moment  of  fearful  de- 
cision, no  one  existed  for  Ralph  Frobisher  except 
his  own  supreme  will. 

Suddenly  he  seemed  to  remember  Angela.  He 
looked  first  at  the  rose  banked  portrait  of  her  lover 
and  then  to  the  girl,  and  gave  a  short,  sharp  laugh 
of  cruel  delight. 

"  You  shall  decide  the  matter,  after  all,"  he  said 
quietly.  "  Tell  me,  do  you  love  this  Ayres  Ar- 
buthnot?" 

Angela's  face  flushed  divinely.  Her  eyes  grew 
black.  Her  whole  form  lifted. 

"  I  love  him  with  all  that  there  is  of  me,"  she 
breathed  softly. 

For  a  moment  Ralph  Frobisher  saw  nothing  but 
red.  The  long  years  of  yielding  his  self-control  to 


250  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

the  fierce  power  of  his  anger,  had  so  weakened  his 
body  that  for  a  moment  he  almost  staggered  from 
the  weight  of  his  rage.  He  was  too  shrewd  a 
thinker  not  to  know  that  Angela  was  irretrievably 
lost  to  him,  no  matter  what  happened,  so  all  he 
could  think  of  was  revenge  upon  the  man  who  had 
robbed  him  of  her. 

"  You  have  said  it,"  he  answered  quietly.  Then 
turning  to  McPherson,  he  said :  "  Send  the  chief 
engineer  to  me,  and  those  new  gunners  I  took  on 
the  day  we  sailed." 

He  turned  and  smiled  at  the  sight  of  Angela's 
ashen  face  and  clasped  hands,  as  the  meaning  of 
his  orders  penetrated  her  mind. 

For  several  hours  thereafter  Angela's  brain  was 
in  a  whirl.  Then  her  efforts  at  self-control  and 
courage  were  rewarded  and  she  regained  her  poise. 

She  knew  some  unusual  proceedings  were  on 
foot,  for  not  only  was  the  motion^of  the  boat  ac- 
celerated, but  she  could  hear  the  tramping  of 
many  feet  and  the  shouting  of  orders.  A  sense  of 
unrest  and  disturbance  was  in  the  very  air. 

McPherson  came  to  her  again. 

"He's  doing  it,  mem!  The  very  thing  I  prayed 
to  see!  We've  orders  to  overhaul  the  Altessa,  and 
Angus  McLeod  is  on  that  good  yacht's  bridge! 
Wait  till  old  Frobisher  finds  out  that  he's  just 
wasting  coal  tq,  try,  but  don't  be  around  when  he 
finds  out,  for  he's  liable  to  kill  anybody  that  gets 
in  his  way  when  he's  angry! " 

"  McPherson,  are  they  going  to  fire  on  the  'Al- 
tessa? "  asked  Angela  in  a  low,  intense  voice. 

"They've  orders  to,  mem,  but  wouldn't  it  be 
strange  now,  if  even  those  trained  gunners  should 
never  be  able  to  hit  their  target?" 

"Oh,  McPherson,  you  don't  mean  it?  Will  they 
miss  on  purpose?  " 

"Give    yourself    no    uneasiness,     mem!     But 


THE    SLAVE    OF   PASSION  251 

wouldn't  you  care  to  come  on  deck,  seeing  that  the 
commodore  has  so  thoughtfully  opened  the  door 
for  you?" 

Angela  smiled. 

"  Do  you  know,  it  never  occurred  to  me  that  I 
could !  I've  been  locked  up  so  long,  I  had  forgot- 
ten how  to  be  free  in  my  body.  My  mind  has  al- 
ways been  free.  That's  a  wonderful  sense,  when 
you  understand  it,  isn't  it,  McPherson?" 

"  It  is  indeed,  mem !  "  answered  the  Scotchman. 
"  John  Young  of  Edinburg  has  written  a  great 
deal  on  that  matter.  Have  you  ever  read  anything 
of  his,  mem?" 

"  No,  I  have  not,  but  if  he  writes  on  such  sub- 
jects, I  will.  Now  help  me  to  find  a  place  on  deck 
where  Mr.  Frobisher  will  not  see  me,  and  I  can 
have  at  least  a  few  moments  to  myself  before  any- 
one tells  him  where  I  am." 

When  Angela  found  herself  on  the  deck  of  the 
Koenigin  Luise,  she  felt  as  if  she  were  on  an  ocean 
liner.  The  size  of  the  big  vessel  was  almost  over- 
powering, and  with  so  few  on  board,  it  seemed 
doubly  large. 

Her  maid  saw  her  and  ran  to  fetch  things  to 
make  her  comfortable. 

The  air  was  mild,  and  it  was  plain  that  their 
five-days'  sail  had  been  almost  due  south,  for  the 
heat  of  the  summer  was  in  the  atmosphere,  al- 
though the  swift  motion  of  the  yacht  made  a  cool- 
ing breeze. 

Angela  remained  on  deck  all  the  afternoon  and 
evening.  She  had  her  dinner  brought  to  her,  and 
although  Mr.  Frobisher  knew  where  she  was,  he 
made  no  effort  to  join  or  to  disturb  her. 

About  ten  o'clock  McPherson  came  to  her. 

"  The  wireless  operator  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  he 
murmured,  "  and  I  just  got  him  to  slip  off  a  mes- 
sage saying,  '  Propose  to  overhaul  you,  Angus  Me- 


252  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Leod.  Our  engines  are  faster  than  yours ! '  The 
answer  came  back,  'McLeod  says  he  will  see  you 
in  hell  before  he  lets  your  engines  even  speak  to 
ours,'  and  the  commodore  got  it !  He  doesn't  know 
it's  an  answer  to  one  from  us.  He  thinks  it  is  just 
a  valentine  from  his  friend  Angus  McLeod,  and 
he  accepted  it  in  a  similar  spirit." 

The  man  was  well  pleased  when  he  heard  An- 
gela's musical  laughter. 

"  I'm  glad  you  told  me  that,  McPherson !  It 
proves  all  my  hope  for  the  safety  of  my  dear  ones 
to  be  based  on  understanding,"  she  said.  "  I'm  go- 
ing below  now.  In  the  morning,  bring  my  coffee 
to  me  early,  as  I  want  to  see  all  I  can  of  this 
wonderful  race." 

As  the  Scotchman  called  her  maid  and  saw  them 
disappear  together,  he  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  just  as  well  that  I  made  her  laugh  instead 
of  telling  her  that  our  head  devil  has  given  orders 
to  close  in  on  the  Altessa  all  we  can  in  order  to 
fire  on  her  at  sunrise ! " 

The  master  of  the  yacht  never  closed  his  eyes  all 
night.  He  paced  deck  after  deck,  restlessly  roving 
hither  and  yon,  his  face  haggard  for  want  of  sleep. 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  was  kept  awake 
because  of  his  love  for  a  woman,  and  this  irked  him 
the  more  because  he  secretly  despised  all  women, 
holding  them  as  inferior  to  man  in  every  way. 

If  anyone  had  told  him  that  danger  threatened 
him  at  the  hands  of  a  woman  whom  he  had  driven 
too  far,  he  would  have  laughed  derisively. 

But  as  he  tramped  the  decks  of  his  strong  yacht 
and  meditated  on  the  futility  of  all  his  posses- 
sions, when  the  one  thing  he  coveted  spurned  him, 
strange  thoughts  on  the  vanity  of  life  came  into 
his  mind,  and  in  the  grey  dawn  of  another  day, 
tears  of  self-pity  smarted  in  his  hard  eyes. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 
ON  THE  HIGH  SEAS 

If  that  strangely  missing  man,  Christopher  Cra- 
vanath,  had  not  possessed  a  strong  philosophy  and 
a  deep  religion,  he  probably  would  not  have  sur- 
vived his  twelve  years  of  persecution  and  impris- 
onment at  the  hands  of  the  tools  of  Ralph  Fro- 
bisher. 

That  he  had  not  died,  was  a  surprise  to  the  man 
himself,  for  scarcely  a  form  of  ill-treatment  had 
been  denied  him.  Bodily  and  mental  torture  of  an 
indescribable  nature  had  been  his  fortune. 

Incarcerated  for  the  first  six  years  in  a  mad- 
house, he  had  all  but  lost  his  reason,  but  he  held 
on  to  his  sanity  mainly  by  closing  his  eyes  and 
ears  to  the  sights  and  sounds  around  him.  He 
realised  that  to  allow  them  to  enter  his  mind  as 
realities  would  be  to  lose  his  grip  upon  his  own 
sanity. 

By  doing  this  systematically,  and  with  a  trained 
mind,  obedient  to  his  will,  he  was  able  to  perform 
this  difficult  feat.  He  finally  came  to  believe  that 
he  lived  in  a  dream,  and  that  real  existence  lay 
beyond  the  walls  of  his  vision.  That,  in  so  doing, 
he  often  laughed  where  another  would  have  wept, 
induced  his  keepers  to  believe  that  he  was  as  in- 
sane as  their  other  victims,  and  he  was  often 
treated  with  a  harshness  he  might  have  escaped, 
had  his  keepers  realised  that  he  was  really  more 
sane  than  many  another  man  who  conducts  his 
daily  existence  differently. 

253 


254  ANGELA'S 

Christopher  Cravanath  also  had  constantly  in 
his  mind  the  knowledge  that  he  must  keep  sane 
for  the  sake  of  his  wife  and  child. 

At  first  his  vivid  imagination  tortured  his  wak- 
ing hours  and  even  penetrated  his  dreams  by  pic- 
tures of  their  possible  calamities.  This  at  first  so 
undermined  his  health  that  he  finally  hit  upon  a 
scheme  of  counteracting  this  tendency. 

He  constructed  an  imaginary  story  of  their  lives, 
in  which  his  wife,  radiant  in  health  and  beauty, 
was  living  in  a  beautiful  semi-tropical  island, 
waited  upon  by  faithful  servitors,  and  surrounded 
by  a  few  choice  friends.  In  this  dream  she  be- 
lieved her  husband  to  be  away  on  a  long  voyage  of 
important  discovery,  and  to  her  he  had  entrusted 
the  bringing  up  of  their  only  child  Angela. 

The  lonely  man  even  made  himself  follow  the 
child  in  her  lessons.  He  mentally  heard  her  taught 
to  read  and  write.  He  was  amused  by  her  efforts 
to  spell.  He  imagined  her  learning  French,  Ger- 
man, Italian  and  Spanish,  and  followed  in  minut- 
est detail  the  changes  in  her  appearance. 

When  he  was  allowed  paper  and  pencil,  he 
wrote  down  these  imaginings,  and  illustrated  them 
by  sketches  of  this  island  home,  with  his  wife  and 
child,  its  centre  and  circumference. 

That  he  was  not  always  able  to  hoodwink  his 
weaker  self,  was  evidenced  by  long  lapses,  in  which 
his  face  grew  haggard  and  his  hair  whitened.  He 
always  fought  this  demon  of  natural  fear  and  con- 
quered it,  but  not  without  scars. 

Then  came  the  time  when  Frobisher  grew  fear- 
ful that  Cravanath  was  too  near  New  York,  and 
Marvin  Cray  had  him  transferred  to  a  prison  in 
the  island  of  Estrellada. 

Here  his  fate  at  first  was  so  terrible  that  even 
Don  Rafael  took  pity  on  the  white  man  and  housed 


ON    THE   HIGH    SEAS  255 

him  separately,  where  tropical  fevers  could  feed 
upon  him  at  their  convenience. 

He  arose  from  this  process  of  acclimation,  so 
wasted  and  weak  that  for  months  he  only  dozed  in 
the  shadow  cast  by  his  prison  walls,  and  prayed 
to  die. 

Years  crept  by  until  finally  he  escaped.  By  what 
means  he  never  knew,  but  his  freedom  did  him  no 
good.  He  could  make  no  one  believe  his  story,  he 
was  sick,  penniless  and  hopelessly  lost  in  the  in- 
terior of  the  island,  where  he  never  saw  a  white 
man. 

As  his  strength  returned,  hope  was  born  anew, 
and  he  began  to  make  for  the  coast.  There  he 
knew  he  must  eventually  meet  with  someone  who 
would  believe  and  aid  him. 

Ill-luck  attended  him  still.  He  was  delayed  with 
fevers  and  misdirected  until,  when  he  finally  came 
to  where  he  saw  and  smelled  the  salt  water,  and 
knew  that  only  the  sea  separated  him  from  Amer- 
ica and  his  home,  he  nearly  died  of  sheer  joy. 
Surely  the  sight  of  the  Atlantic  never  meant  more 
to  any  man. 

But  his  happiness  was  short-lived,  for  he  soon 
discovered  that  he  was  in  a  tiny  hamlet,  hedged  in 
by  dangerous  coral  reefs  which  prevented  any 
large  vessels  from  approaching.  This  drove  all 
commerce  to  the  open  ports  and  prevented  settle- 
ments or  progress  of  any  sort. 

When  this  despairing  conclusion  was  finally 
reached,  he  had  come  to  the  most  lonely  and  unin- 
habited part  of  Estrellada.  When  he  realised  that 
to  reach  shipping  he  must  cross  the  entire  island, 
he  decided  to  take  a  small  boat,  provision  it  as 
best  he  might,  and  set  sail  for  the  ocean  pathway, 
where  he  might  be  picked  up  by  a  passing  vessel. 
Failing  this,  he  could  at  least  circle  the  island  be- 


256  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

fore  his  food  gave  out,  and  reach  Yabos,  where  he 
was  confident  he  could  persuade  the  United  States 
Consul  to  assist  him  to  reach  home. 

He  had  nothing  to  barter  for  a  good  boat,  so  he 
had  to  mend,  patch,  provision  and  launch  one  so  un- 
seaworthy  that  no  one  laid  claim  to  it.  It  took  so 
long  to  perfect  even  these  crude  arrangements, 
that,  although  he  had  entirely  lost  count  of  time, 
it  was  just  thirteen  years  from  the  day  Ealph  Fro- 
bisher  imprisoned  him  in  the  Belair  Sanatorium 
that  he  paddled  his  shaky  old  boat,  with  two  oars 
and  a  sad  apology  for  a  sail,  out  in  the  smooth 
lagoons  which  lay  between  land  and  the  coral 
reefs. 

He  had  no  compass,  no  rudder,  and  no  informa- 
tion, for  the  natives  were  of  the  densest  ignorance, 
many  of  whom  had  never  seen  a  white  man  before, 
and  to  whom  he  could  talk  so  little  that  they  mostly 
communicated  in  signs. 

A  man  less  desperate  than  Christopher  Crava- 
nath  would  never  have  risked  his  life  in  so  crazy 
a  craft  nor  upon  so  apparently  impossible  an  es- 
cape. But  this  man  was  not  himself.  He  had 
reached  the  limit  of  his  endurance,  and,  if  he  had 
known  positively  that  he  was  sailing  to  certain 
death,  he  would  still  have  made  the  attempt. 

Had  he  only  known  it  and  sailed  west,  instead 
of  east,  he  would  have  reached,  not  only  the  end 
of  the  coral  reefs,  but  civilisation  in  one  day's  pad- 
dling. But  his  destiny  led  him  otherwise. 

He  was  in  no  danger  as  long  as  his  course  lay 
within  the  comparatively  smooth  waters  of  the 
great  lagoons,  but  when  he  came  within  reach  of 
the  reefs,  where  the  sea  boiled  angrily  over  its  un- 
seen obstructions,  he  found  his  frail  craft  utterly 
unable  to  cope  with  the  violence  before  it. 

For  one  whole  day  he  rowed  and  sailed  length- 


ON   THE    HIGH    SEAS  257 

wise  of  these  reefs,  vainly  seeking  a  way  to  cross 
them  and  reach  the  open  sea.  But  his  old  tub  rode 
go  low  and  shipped  so  much  water  that  he  could 
make  no  experiments. 

At  nightfall  he  was  almost  dazed  with  grief  and 
disappointment. 

He  shipped  his  oars,  reefed  his  sail  and  let  his 
boat  drift  rudderless.  He  felt  that  this  wras  his 
last  night  upon  earth.  He  was  alone  in  a  shell  of 
an  open  boat  upon  an  unknown  sea,  not  a  sail  in 
sight,  nor  in  a  spot  where  one  was  liable  to  be  seen, 
and  hemmed  in  between  an  ocean  terror  and  an 
inhospitable  island  prison. 

Despair,  utter  and  complete,  settled  down  upon 
him  and  overwhelmed  that  brave  spirit  wrhich  for 
more  than  a  dozen  years  had  proved  unquenchable. 

He  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand  and  looked 
up  at  the  strange  nearness  of  the  stars.  So  large 
they  seemed,  so  intelligent,  so  friendly.  He  knewr 
them  all  by  name,  and  as  he  gazed  at  them,  it 
seemed  as  if  they  spoke  to  him,  and  bade  him  take 
courage,  as  He  who  guided  "Arcturus  with  his 
sons  "  would  also  protect  all  His  children  according 
to  His  promise. 

Just  as  the  message  of  cheer  came  to  his  heart, 
he  sawr,  far  away  on  the  distant  horizon,  two  tiny 
moving  lights. 

He  held  his  breath  and  watched.  He  closed  his 
eyes  and  counted  a  hundred.  They  wTere  still 
there!  Two  vessels  were  within  his  range  of  vi- 
sion, their  lights  growing  more  distinct  all  the 
time. 

He  knew  much  ot  shipping,  could  calculate  dis- 
tances, and  made  allowances  for  his  excitement, 
still  he  had  never  seen  anything  like  the  swiftness 
of  their  approach. 

If  it  should  prove  that  the  civilised  world  was 


258  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

in  a  state  of  war,  he  believed  that  he  was  watching 
a  race  between  the  contesting  gunboats  which 
would  be  historical, 

An  excitement  so  intense  that  it  was  physical 
pain,  took  possession  of  him.  He  worked  him- 
self almost  to  a  frenzy  trying  to  imagine  which 
was  the  American  boat  and  which  her  European 
enemy.  Was  it  England,  Germany,  Japan  or  pos- 
sibly France? 

He  eliminated  France  first,  then  England,  then 
Germany.  He  decided  that  the  leader  (the  Al- 
tessa)  was  Japanese,  and  that  the  Koenigin  Lulse 
was  an  American. 

This  theory  was  gradually  discarded  as  he  real- 
ised that  the  leader  was  still  drawing  away  from 
her  pursuer. 

The  golden  sun  suddenly  sprang  up,  full-orbed, 
above  the  horizon's  rim,  and  to  his  surprise  he  saw 
a  faint  puff  of  smoke  from  the  pursuer,  and  there 
was  borne  to  his  listening  ears  the  faint  detonation 
of  a  monster  shot. 

The  leader  was  not  touched.  She  made  no  reply, 
unless  an  added  burst  of  speed  could  be  called 
such.  This  seemed  to  anger  her  enemy,  for  a  sec- 
ond shot  followed,  and  then  a  third.  Although 
the  steamers  were  fast  bearing  away  from  him,  the 
man's  curiosity  as  to  who  and  what  these  strange 
vessels  were,  almost  drove  his  disappointment  at 
being  ignored  by  them,  out  of  his  mind. 

Suddenly  he  became  aware  that  he  was  missing 
an  accustomed  sound.  He  gathered  his  scattered 
faculties  together  and  looked  around. 

At  last  it  came  to  him.  He  could  no  longer  hear 
the  sound  of  the  boiling  waves  over  the  coral  reefs. 
His  boat  had  drifted  beyond  their  limits. 

In  an  ecstasy  of  renewed  hope,  he  shipped  his 
oars,  rigged  his  sail  as  a  flag  of  distress,  and  began 
to  row  toward  the  fast  disappearing  vessels. 


ON    THE    HIGH    SEAS  259 

Every  few  minutes  he  could  hear  the  futile  boom- 
ing of  the  guns,  which  suddenly  seemed  to  become 
louder. 

He  turned  himself  and  watched. 

At  first  he  could  not  believe  his  eyes.  But  at 
last  the  truth  was  forced  upon  him. 

The  two  vessels  had  turned  completely  out  of 
their  course,  and  the  gallant  leader,  whose  beauti- 
ful lines  were  momentarily  becoming  more  appar- 
ent, was  headed  straight  for  the  coral  reef,  with 
her  enemy  following. 

Both  would  be  wrecked  before  his  very  eyes,  and 
to  his  surprise  he  saw  they  were  not  men-of-war, 
but  steamers ! 

Without  thinking,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  waving 
his  hands  wildly  and  shouting.  As  if  his  feeble 
voice  could  carry  all  that  distance!  Yet  still  he 
stood  in  his  rocking  boat,  shouting  and  wringing 
his  hands,  going,  if  need  be,  to  his  death,  but  gal- 
lantly doing  his  best  to  the  very  last,  to  warn  the 
doomed  ships. 

Finally  the  leader,  headed  straight  in  his  direc- 
tion, came  so  near  that  he  could  make  out  her  col- 
ours. She  was  an  American! 

Tears  filled  his  weak  eyes  and  ran  unchecked 
down  his  cheeks  at  the  sight  of  the  flag,  flying  so 
gallantly  from  her  masthead. 

What  memories  of  wife  and  child  that  flag 
evoked!  What  precious  American  lives  she  pro- 
tected !  If  only  he  could  warn  them  in  time !  He 
sobbed  aloud  in  his  weakness. 

Suddenly  a  new  thought  came  to  him.  He  re- 
membered the  story  of  those  reefs  the  natives  had 
told  him,  of  how  the  breakers  only  indicated  the 
lesser  danger.  The  worst  were — where? 

Then  he  knew ! 

The  American  steamer  evidently  knew  the  depths 
^ reefs  and  that  she  could  pass  over  them  in 


260  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

safety.  She  was  luring  her  deeper-draughted  en- 
emy on  to  self-destruction ! 

He  held  his  breath. 

On,  on  came  the  swiftly  flying  'Altessa,  cleaving 
the  shining  blue  sea  like  a  white-breasted  sea  gull. 
Over  the  treacherous,  submerged  reefs  she  went 
like  a  bird,  while  behind  her  loomed  larger  and 
larger  her  more  heavily-built  enemy. 

Suddenly  came  a  grinding  roar,  and  the  Koenigin 
Luise  seemed  to  lift  herself  half  out  of  the  water 
in  her  brave  attempt  to  ride  over  the  coral  reef. 
Then  she  lurched  forward,  her  prow  half  burying 
itself  in  flying  waves  and  spray. 

The  Altessa,  which  had  slackened  speed,  in  evi- 
dent anticipation  of  this  catastrophe,  turned  her- 
self and  slowly  steamed  back  to  the  wrecked  yacht, 
when  there  was  a  loud  report  and  a  shot, — the  last 
one  possible  from  the  rapidly  sinking  vessel, — sped 
swiftly  on  its  venomous  errand,  missing  its  target, 
the  Altessa,  but  striking  the  tiny  shell  of  Christo- 
pher Cravanath,  shattering  and  sinking  it. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  CAPTAIN'S  BRIDGE 

"With  all  due  respect  to  you,  Mr.  Arbuthnot,'' 
said  Angus  McLeod,  "  I  must  return  that  fire,  or 
lose  all  that  life  holds  dear!  Do  you  want  Mr. 
Frobisher  to  think  that  we  are  cowards?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,  captain,  but  on  the  other  hand,  I 
don't  want  to  think  of  myself  as  a  murderer  or  a 
pirate.  She  hasn't  damaged  us  yet  or  is  she  likely 
to,  as  you  very  well  know.  So  oblige  me  by  simply 
drawing  away  from  her.  You  yourself  know  their 
pride  in  the  speed  of  the  Koenigin  Luise,  so  you 
must  realise  that  to  render  her  ridiculous  in  their 
eyes  would  be  a  keener  revenge  than  even  to  return 
her  fire  and  sink  her." 

For  a  moment  the  captain's  pride  as  captain  of 
his  craft  nearly  overpowered  him.  He  had  a  short 
period  of  rebellion,  in  which  he  almost  determined 
to  assert  his  authority  even  over  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 
But  the  truth  was  that  he  adored  the  Altessa  and 
it  would  have  punished  him  sorely  to  have  been 
obliged  to  give  up  command  of  her  to  pay  for  a 
short-lived  victory. 

He  thought  hard  for  a  few  minutes,  then  a  slow 
smile  spread  over  his  rugged  features. 

"Very  well,  sir.  I  defer  to  your  wishes  as 
owner,  though  my  pride  as  captain  is  sorely  tried." 

"  I  can  understand  that,"  answered  Mr.  Arbuth- 
not, "but  possibly  she  won't  fire  again " 

A  dull  boom  interrupted  him.  The  captain's 
eyes  flashed  fire. 

961 


262  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

"Very  likely  not,  sir! "  he  said,  sarcastically. 

Had  not  the  captain  been  obsessed  by  his  secret 
thoughts,  his  anger  might  have  been  more  stirred, 
but  as  it  was,  he  looked  almost  joyous  at  the  ad- 
vent of  the  second  shot  and  broke  away  from  his 
employer  without  ceremony  to  give  his  orders. 

To  maintain  discipline,  the  guns  were  manned, 
all  passengers  ordered  below  and  the  decks 
cleared  for  action. 

Then  an  order  rang  out  which  set  the  stokers  to 
sweating.  Black  clouds  of  smoke  began  to  pour 
from  the  Altessa' s  funnels  and  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it,  the  greatest  yacht  race  in  the  his- 
tory of  sport  was  in  progress. 

The  American  built  craft  was  more  delicately 
wrought,  was  of  less  draught  and  was  built  for 
greater  speed,  albeit  this  capacity  had  never  been 
tested  to  its  utmost,  while  the  Koenigin  Luise  was 
a  more  pretentious  yacht  with  more  powerful  en- 
gines, deeper  draught  and  bulkier. 

But  the  engineer  of  the  Altessa  was  a  down  east 
Yankee,  who  believed  in  his  engines  as  most  men 
believe  in  Fate,  and  who  knew  how  to  get  the  last 
notch  of  speed  out  of  them.  His  one  great  griev- 
ance had  been  hitherto,  that  Mr.  Arbuthnot  was 
nothing  of  a  sport,  and  ran  the  Altessa  as  if  she 
were  a  wheelbarrow. 

In  addition  to  knowing  all  this,  Angus  McLeod 
had  for  nine  years  been  a  pilot  in  the  South  At- 
lantic waters  and  knew  the  island  of  Estrellada 
as  well  as  he  knew  the  East  River.  He  knew  all 
the  reefs, — where  they  began  and  where  they 
ended, — and  as  he  had  been  first  mate  on  the 
Koenigin  Lnise,  he  knew  her  draught. 

Therefore,  without  a  word  to  Mr.  Arbuthnof  of 
his  plan  of  revenge,  he  prepared  to  carry  out  a 
scheme  of  his  own  which  would  not  only  re- 


THE  TRAGEDY  263 

establish  his  self-respect,  but  would  support  him 
in  the  eyes  of  his  crew  and  yet  would  not  endanger 
his  position  as  captain  of  the  Altessa,  for  Mr. 
Arbuthnot  could  never  be  sure  that  he  wrecked 
the  Frobisher  yacht  purposely,  albeit  he  might  sus- 
pect. 

The  only  thing  Captain  McLeod  did  not  know 
was  that  Angela  was  a  passenger  on  the  Koenigin 
Luise. 

His  conscience  compelled  him  to  ask  Mrs.  Fro- 
bisher if  any  of  her  family  were  on  board  except 
her  husband,  and  in  her  grim  monosyllable,  he 
caught  only  the  echo  of  her  hatred  of  her  husband, 
which  he  had  shrewdly  suspected  ever  since  she 
came  aboard  the  Altessa,  but,  although  there  had 
been  some  whispers  of  another  woman,  her  identity 
was  not  even  suspected,  and  if  such  a  passenger 
existed,  she  was  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  sort  not 
worth  taking  into  consideration. 

Angus  McLeod  proposed  to  make  rather  a  neat 
thing  of  this  wreck.  He  did  not  intend  to  lose  any 
lives.  He  planned  rather  a  coup  de  theatre.  His 
own  boats  would  be  in  the  water,  ready  to  go  to 
her  rescue  the  moment  she  struck  the  reef. 

The  Arbuthnots,  father  and  son,  stood  together 
in  their  determination  not  to  return  the  Koenigin' s 
fire.  But  while  to  Squires  Arbuthnot,  it  spelled 
only  a  murderous  spite,  to  the  keener  intelligence 
of  Ayres,  it  had  a  more  sinister  meaning. 

He  felt  sure  that  Ralph  Frobisher  must  fear 
that  Christopher  Cravanath  had  escaped  alive,  and 
that  possibly  the  missing  man  was  in  closer  prox- 
imity to  them  than  they  had  dared  to  hope. 

Therefore  he  took  the  most  powerful  telescope 
on  board,  and  during  the  entire  night  when  the 
splendid  yachts  were  engaged  in  their  spirited 
race,  Ayres  Arbuthnot  was  sweeping  the  horizon 


264  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

with  his  telescope,  and  at  dawn  his  were  the  only 
eyes  which  saw  the  tiny  speck  upon  the  waters, 
making  its  piteous  effort  to  warn  the  doomed 
yacht,  in  brave  disregard  of  his  own  danger. 

Ayres  realised  that  something  unknown  to  him- 
self was  going  on  from  the  expression  on  the 
captain's  face  and  actions. 

Just  before  he  spied  the  frantic  spectre  in  the 
small  boat,  Ayres  felt  the  motion  of  their  yacht 
suddenly  slacken  and  then  she  slowly  circled 
around. 

He  shouted  to  the  captain,  who  was  on  the 
bridge. 

"Man  in  small  boat  signalling  us,  captain.  Give 
orders  to  lower  a  boat ! " 

Instantly  the  pounding  of  the  engines  stopped 
and  without  a  word  to  anyone,  Ayres  was  in  the 
boat,  almost  as  soon  as  she  touched  the  water. 

The  eyes  of  all  were  upon  the  rocking  craft  of 
the  unknown  man,  and  not  until  the  final  shot  was 
fired  from  the  Koenigin  Luise,  which  wrecked  Cra- 
vanath's  boat,  did  any  of  them  turn  to  look  at  the 
Frobisher  yacht. 

But  as  the  grinding  crash  when  she  struck  the 
reef,  came  to  their  ears,  they  looked,  just  in  time  to 
see  the  catastrophe.  She  seemed  to  leap  into  the 
air,  her  prow  out  of  the  water,  to  hang  trembling 
for  a  moment,  then  overpowered  by  her  own  for- 
ward weight,  she  sank  her  bow  into  the  ocean  and 
began  settling  with  hideous  slowness,  rocking  and 
trembling  as  if  endeavouring  like  some  human 
thing,  to  catch  at  every  obstruction  which  might 
avert  her  inevitable  doom. 

Fear  paralysed  all  hands  in  the  small  boat,  and 
for  a  moment  they  stared  helplessly. 

It  was  Ayres  who  recovered  himself  first.  He 
saw  the  head  of  the  unknown  man  rise  to  the  sur- 


THE   TRAGEDY  265 

face  and  seizing  an  oar  he  gave  a  shout  of  en- 
couragement to  the  struggling  swimmer  and  bent 
himself  to  his  task. 

It  was  his  supreme  moment,  for  every  instinct  in 
his  whole  nature  cried  out  to  him  to  rush  to  the 
rescue  of  the  woman  he  loved,  whose  tragic  fate 
his  own  eyes  had  just  beheld  impending.  But 
other  boats  from  the  Altessa  were  instantly 
manned  and  all  were  nearer  to  the  sinking  yacht 
than  he  was. 

Therefore  he  accepted  the  duty  nearest  at  hand 
and  pulled  steadily  away  from  the  wreck  and  in 
the  direction  of  the  spent  swimmer. 

Eager  hands  reached  out  for  the  almost  dying 
man  and  barely  in  time  to  save  his  broken  life, 
Christopher  Cravanath  was  hauled  aboard  the 
tight  little  craft  by  the  strong  young  arms  of  the 
man  who  loved  his  daughter. 

With  a  gasp  he  sank  fainting  against  Ayres, 
who  was  eagerly  scrutinising  his  wasted  features. 

"  Pull,  men,  for  your  lives,"  exclaimed  Ayres  in 
a  low,  tense  voice.  "Miss  Cravanath  and  Ralph 
Frobisher  must  both  be  saved ! " 

With  a  scream  like  an  animal  in  pain,  the  ap- 
parently lifeless  man  they  had  just  rescued 
struggled  to  a  sitting  posture,  then  climbed  to  his 
knees. 

Smiting  his  hands  together,  he  electrified  his  lis- 
teners by  crying  out: 

"Ralph  Frobisher!  My  God!  Did  you  say 
Ralph  Frobisher?  Is  it  possible  that  that  devil  is 
alive  yet!  Oh,  to  see  him  die  with  my  own  eyes 
after  all  these  years  of  hell  he  has  meted  out  to 
me !  And  Miss  Cravanath !  Boy,  did  you  say  Cra- 
vanath? Or  did  my  ears  deceive  me?  Can  it  be 
my  little  Angela — my  baby  girl  that  man  has  in 
his  power?  Oh,  God!  Oh,  my  God!" 


266  ANGELA'S   QUEST 

Turning  and  twisting  as  if  his  physical  agony 
equalled  his  mental  anguish,  the  white-haired 
man  shook  Ayres  by  the  coat,  patted  his  cheeks, 
implored  him  with  voice  broken  by  sobs: 

"Tell  me,  young  man!  Speak  those  names 
again,  just  to  let  me  be  sure  that  I  heard ! " 

"  Angela  Cravanath  is  alive  and  well,  but  on 
that  yacht,  and,  as  you  see,  in  great  danger,"  an- 
swered Ayres,  controlling  himself  with  an  effort. 
"  If  you  are  her  father " 

"  I  am  Christopher  Cravanath ! "  interrupted  the 
man.  "  Dead  these  many  years  to  all  eyes,  but 
those  of  my  God !  Oh,  my  boy,  give  me  an  oar  and 
let  me  help !  God !  How  slowly  we  go ! " 

"  But  others  are  at  hand,"  said  Ayres  sooth- 
ingly. "  Here,  take  these  glasses  and  you  can  see ! 
They  are  taking  them  off  in  our  boats  already." 

To  the  frantic  father  and  lover  it  seemed  as  if, 
in  spite  of  all  possible  speed,  they  seemed  to  be  im- 
movable, yet  in  reality  they  were  eating  up  the 
distance  as  fast  as  stout  hearts  and  strong  sinews 
could  manage  it. 

Both  Ayres  and  Christopher  Cravanath  held 
powerful  binoculars  to  their  eyes. 

Suddenly  an  oath  burst  from  the  younger  man's 
lips.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  trembling  in  every 
limb. 

"  A  hundred  dollars  to  each  of  you  men,  if  you 
double  your  speed ! ''  he  cried. 

Without  daring  to  turn,  the  men  obeyed. 

"Lighter  her  of  everything!"  cried  Cravanath, 
and  instantly  he  and  Ayres  flung  overboard  all  the 
costly  furnishings  of  the  beautiful  boat. 

She  responded  by  cleaving  the  water  like  an  es- 
caped sea  gull. 

Suddenly  came  a  cry  from  the  doomed  yacht. 


THE   TRAGEDY  267 

She  had  listed  to  starboard  and  her  decks  were  at 
such  a  slant  that  all  were  flung  precipitously  to 
the  starboard  rail. 

One  of  the  Altessa's  small  boats  capsized,  but  a 
larger  one  nearby  righted  her,  and  drew  as  near 
as  possible  to  the  dangling  rope  ladders  from  the 
overhanging  decks  above. 

The  stewardess,  the  French  maid  and  several 
other  women  servants  were  bundled  down  in 
safety.  But  no  Angela  and  no  Frobisher  had  yet 
appeared. 

Suddenly  on  the  captain's  bridge,  two  figures 
could  be  seen.  And  these,  sighted  by  Ayres 
through  his  glasses,  were  what  had  caused  his 
emotion.  They  were  Ralph  Frobisher  holding 
Angela  in  his  arms.  The  powerful  man  stood 
there  like  a  rock,  holding  against  his  breast  the 
figure  of  a  young  woman,  who  seemed  not  to 
struggle,  nor  even  show  signs  of  life.  From  Fro- 
bisher's  attitude,  the  triumphant  smile  on  his 
heavy  features,  his  immovable  stand,  the  compel- 
ling manner  in  which  his  arms  surrounded  the 
slender  figure  which  lay  against  him,  as  if  crushed 
and  broken,  all  pointed  to  the  fact  that,  knowing 
he  was  trapped  on  every  side,  the  man  had  resolved 
to  defy  his  every  enemy  to  the  last  and  take 
with  him  to  his  death,  the  one  being  whose  purity 
and  beauty  possessed  power  to  move  him.  His  act 
was  a  final  tribute  to  her  influence. 

The  Altessa  herself  had  now  drawn  near  enough 
so  that  all  on  board  had  seen,  with  consternation 
and  horror,  the  impending  tragedy  of  the  captain's 
bridge. 

Mrs.  Frobisher's  face  was  a  study.  No  one 
could  tell  what  tiT  aultuous  emotions  were  tearing 
at  the  heart  of  this  woman,  who  had  never  learned 


268  ANGELA'S  QUEST 

self-control,  and  who  was  a  stranger  to  it  now. 
That  she  made  no  outcry  was  in  itself  ominous. 
It  was  as  if  she  knew  what  Fate's  next  move  would 
be. 

'Mrs.  Cravanath  alone  was  calm.  She  was  sus- 
tained by  a  knowledge  which  was  certainty. 

Midge  and  Bettie  were  openly  weeping  and  even 
Mr.  Arbuthnot  was  wringing  his  hands  and  groan- 
ing aloud  at  his  impotence  to  help. 

Suddenly  a  cry  arose. 

From  behind  the  two  on  the  captain's  bridge, 
appeared  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning  and  with 
thunderous  countenance,  the  towering  form  of 
Ayres  Arbuthnot,  He  was  coatless  and  hatless 
and  his  white  shirt  and  blue  trousers  were  wet  and 
clinging  to  him. 

tWith  a  whirl  which  sent  him  spinning,  Ayres 
jumped  at  Frobisher,  who  all  unprepared  for  the 
assault,  was  caught  without  warning.  The  younger 
man  tore  Angela  from  Frobisher's  arms,  and  hold- 
ing her  half-fainting  form  with  his  left  arm,  he 
parried  the  other's  fierce  blow  with  his  right. 

But  it  was  a  position  impossible  to  hold,  and  in  a 
moment  more,  Ayres  would  have  been  at  the  mercy 
of  his  enemy,  had  not  the  weak  figure  of  Christo- 
pher Cravanath,  weeping,  babbling,  straining  at 
his  last  ounce  of  strength,  crept  on  hands  and  knees 
up  the  steps  after  Ayres,  and,  just  as  Frobisher 
made  a  rush,  Cravanath  caught  him  around  the 
knees,  and  with  an  effort  which  brought  blood  from 
his  nose  and  mouth,  he  tilted  the  great  man  back- 
wards over  the  railing  to  the  deck  beneath.  Then 
his  strength  failed  him  utterly. 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  Altessa  as  this  feat 
met  their  eyes. 

But  their  triumph  was  short-lived,  for  with' 
scarcely  a  moment  to  spare,  the  Koenigin  Luise 


THE  TRAGEDY  269 

groaned,  shivered,  and  then,  with  a  roar  and  crash 
against  the  white  jaws  of  the  coral  reef  she 
plunged  headlong  and  sank  from  sight,  leaving 
only  giant  waves,  surging  foam  and  the  tossing 
boats  of  the  Altcssa  on  the  surface  of  the  sea. 


CHAPTER 
Two 


.White  to  the  lips,  the  [women  on  board  the  rAl- 
tessa  viewed  the  tragedy  on  the  captain's  bridge, 
and  the  almost  instantaneous  disappearance  of  the 
chief  actors  therein,  but  with  widely  differing 
emotions. 

Mrs.  Frobisher  spoke  no  word  when  she  saw 
her  husband  with  Angela  in  his  arms.  To  the  anx- 
ious glances  of  the  others,  she  seemed  carved  from 
stone,  so  set  and  tense  were  the  lines  of  her  figure, 
so  cold  and  hard  her  face. 

But  when  Ayres  tore  Angela  away  from  Fro- 
bisher, and  she  saw  her  husband  wrenched  from 
his  theatrical  position  and  pitched  headlong  to  the 
deck  beneath,  a  long  sigh  burst  from  her  lips  and 
she  smiled  maliciously. 

To  the  onlooker  her  first  sigh  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  one  of  anxiety  for  his  safety.  But 
when,  after  the  Koenigin  Luise  sank,  and  there 
were  tense  moments  before  it  was  known  that  those 
four  were  alive  and  could  be  saved,  she  saw  the 
rescue  of  her  husband  —  saw  him  dragged,  helpless, 
and  only  half  alive,  into  one  of  the  Altessa's  boats, 
she  turned  upon  Alan  Patrick  so  savage  a  look  of 
triumph  and  potential  revenge,  that  even  that  easy- 
going youth,  callous  to  most  emotions,  shrank  back 
appalled,  and  rejoiced  that  it  was  not  himself 
who  had  called  forth  such  an  expression  on  any 
woman's  face. 

(His  own  emotions  were  decidedly  mixed,  for  his 

270 


TWO   WIVES  271 

anxiety  over  his  friend's  fate  was  turned  into  self- 
ish and  lively  rejoicing,  when,  as  the  yacht  sank, 
Midge,  flung  herself,  with  a  cry,  into  his  arms  and 
clung  to  him,  white  and  tearful  and  wholly  his 
own. 

Mrs.  Arbuthnot  hid  her  face  likewise  against  her 
husband's  shoulder  unable  to  look,  for  fear,  of  all 
those  who  were  reappearing,  Ayres,  her  beloved 
son,  should  be  missing. 

No  one  noticed  Mrs.  Cravanath.  But  she,  who 
had  most  at  stake,  never  took  her  eyes  from  the 
scene  of  action. 

She  had  risen  and  was  standing,  clinging  to  the 
gunwale,  with  one  frail  hand  white  with  the  tight- 
ness of  its  clasp.  In  the  other  she  held  a  tiny  pair 
of  powerful  glasses. 

As  she  saw  the  feeble  figure  of  some  man  crawl 
up  the  stairway  to  the  captain's  bridge  and  wit- 
nessed his  valiant  etfort  at  rescue,  a  leap  of  her 
heart  told  her  that  this  man  was  her  husband. 
How,  she  could  not  have  told  you,  for  the  glasses 
showed  not  one  resemblance,  in  the  white-haired, 
bearded  stranger,  to  the  highbred  patrician  hus- 
band of  her  youth.  Still,  as  she  beheld  the  swift 
downfall  of  Ralph  Frobisher,  caused  by  such  evi- 
dent feebleness,  she  felt  that  only  righteous  resent- 
ment could  arm  frail  strength  with  such  Herculean 
power.  And  only  too  well,  she  knew  the  cause. 

Swift  as  lightning  came  what  followed.  The 
sailors  manning  the  Altessa's  boats  had  been  pre- 
pared for  the  sinking  of  the  Frobisher  yacht,  and 
the  survivors — Angela,  Ayres,  and  Mr.  Cravanath 
were  rescued  without  difficulty. 

Not  so  with  llalph  Frobisher.  Stunned  by  his 
fall  and  with  both  ankles  broken,  his  body  rose 
once  and  disappeared. 

It  would  have  been  easy  to  allow  their  efforts  to 


272  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

save  him  to  have  failed,  but  to  Ayres  Arbuthnot 
that  would  have  been  inadequate  punishment. 
From  having  an  impersonal,  altruistic  desire  to  run 
this  man  to  earth  for  his  crimes  against  the  family 
of  the  girl  he  loved,  his  rage  at  seeing  her  in  Fro- 
bisher's  arms  inflamed  him  with  a  passionate  de- 
sire for  a  physical  revenge  and  turned  him  from 
a  pursuer  into  an  avenger. 

He  turned  swiftly  to  his  men. 

"  Frobisher  must  be  saved ! "  he  cried.  "  Don't 
let  him  cheat  the  hangman,  boys!  A  thousand 
dollars  reward  to  the  man  who  saves  him ! " 

The  eyes  of  all  turned  instinctively  to  one  man, 
Joe  Littlejohn.  He  was  of  powerful  build  and 
lithe  as  a  panther. 

Without  a  word  he  stood  up,  stripped  off  his 
coat  and  plunged  over  the  side  of  the  boat.  In  a 
moment  he  rose,  and  struck  out  swimming,  hand 
over  hand,  with  long  powerful  strokes  to  the  spot 
where  Ralph  Frobisher  had  disappeared. 

A  shout  reassured  him.  The  man  he  sought  re- 
appeared for  the  second  time,  but  sank  before 
Littlejohn  could  reach  him. 

Ayres  ground  his  teeth  with  rage  and  swore 
softly. 

A  sailor  turned. 

"You  don't  know  Joe  Littlejohn,  Mr.  Arbuthnot. 
He  is  an  expert  diver.  He'll  save  him  if  he  has  to 
go  to  the  bottom  for  him.  Look !  There  he  goes !  " 

Sure  enough  the  man  disappeared.  It  seemed  as 
if  whole  minutes  passed  before  he  emerged.  He 
came  up  a  boat  length  nearer  to  them  than  when  he 
went  under.  He  was  swimming  easily  with  one 
hand.  With  the  other  he  held  the  head  of  Ralph 
Frobisher  above  the  water. 

As  eager  lianas  pulled  the  unconscious  man  into 
the  boat  and  Lii'lejohn  clambered  aboard,  his  eyes 


TWO   WIVES  273 

dancing  at  having  performed  his  feat  in  the  pres- 
ence of  such  an  audience,  Ayres  seized  his  hand. 

"  I  double  what  I  promised  you  on  behalf  of  my 
governor,  Littlejohn ! "  he  said,  heartily.  "  That 
was  magnificently  done !  " 

Slowly  the  heavily  laden  boats  pulled  for  the 
'Altessa. 

Angela,  conscious,  but  unnerved,  was  clasped  in 
the  arms  of  her  lover,  wholly  oblivious  to  aught 
but  that  she  had  reached  a  haven  of  comfort  and 
happiness,  while  the  radiant  expression  on  the 
face  of  Ayres,  brought  an  answering  smile  to  the 
eyes  of  all  who  beheld  and  in  a  measure,  shared 
his  happiness. 

Everyone  naturally  loves  a  successful  feat  of 
strength  and  power,  and  especially  when  coupled 
with  just  revenge.  Therefore  the  act  of  Ayres  in 
tearing  the  woman  he  loved  from  the  foul  embrace 
of  an  illegitimate  lover,  raised  the  young  man  to 
the  pinnacle  of  a  hero  in  the  eyes  of  both  crews. 

In  like  manner,  the  heroic  act  of  the  feeble  cast- 
away, in  pitching  Frobisher,  the  tyrant,  to  his  doom, 
roused  the  enthusiasm  of  all  to  the  point  of  ex- 
plosion, which,  however,  kept  itself  under  until 
the  survivors  were  being  taken  aboard  the  'Altessa. 

Then,  their  enthusiasm  burst  all  bounds,  and  as 
Angela,  her  father  and  Ayres  set  foot  on  the  shin- 
ing decks  of  the  Arbuthnot  yacht,  cheer  after 
cheer,  spontaneous  and  hearty,  rent  the  air. 

Frobisher,  unconscious,  still  lay  in  the  bottom  of 
the  small  boat  in  charge  of  a  single  sailor,  not  a 
hand  being  offered  to  raise  him,  until  the  others 
had  been  cared  for. 

There  was  not  a  dry  eye  among  those  who  wit- 
nessed the  meeting  of  Christopher  Cravanath  and 
his  wife.  She  stepped  slowly  forward,  her  face 
working  painfully,  but  tears  held  back  bravely, 


274  ANGELA'S    QUEST 

while  the  spent  and  broken  wreck  of  her  husband, 
white-haired,  unkempt  and  clad  in  filthy  rags, 
tottered  across  the  deck  supported  by  Mr.  Ar- 
buthnot,  smiling,  but  tremulous  with  excitment. 

With  a  low  cry  Mrs.  Cravanath  held  out  her 
hands  to  her  husband  and  gathering  him  into  her 
arms  like  a  tired  child,  her  bonds  of  silence  were 
broken  and  she  spoke  aloud  the  words : 

"  My  God !    I  thank  Thee  for  this  moment !  " 

At  this,  Angela,  who  had  not  been  told  of  her 
father's  identity,  ran  forward  and  flung  herself 
on  her  knees  at  the  side  of  her  reunited  parents, 
her  long  ropes  of  auburn  hair  sweeping  the  deck 
as  she  gazed  rapturously  into  their  glorified  faces. 

From  a  distance,  Mrs.  Frobisher  was  a  witness 
of  this  scene,  but  for  the  most  part  her  gaze  was 
riveted  to  the  powerful  figure  of  her  husband,  ly- 
ing prone  in  the  boat  just  below.  No  one  was 
with  him,  the  last  sailor  having  hastily  fastened 
the  boat,  in  his  hurry  to  join  his  mates  on  deck  to 
see  Joe  Littlejohn  come  into  his  promised  fortune. 
Her  intense  gaze  seemed  to  galvanise  her  victim. 

Although  Mrs.  Frobisher  witnessed  the  man's 
desertion,  she  said  nothing  for  it  suited  her  pur- 
pose to  have  her  husband  alone,  when  he  should  re- 
cover consciousness,  as  he  was  then  showing  signs 
of  doing. 

The  injured  man  was  lying  on  his  back  when  he 
came  to  himself.  At  first,  he  lay  with  closed  eyes, 
trying  to  realise  where  he  was.  Suddenly  he  re- 
membered. With  an  oath  he  struggled  to  rise,  but 
the  agonising  pain  in  his  ankles  pulled  him  down 
and  he  sank  back  with  a  groan  of  anguish. 

Then,  lifting  his  eyes,  he  met  the  basilisk  gaze 
of  his  wife,  bent  on  him  from  the  deck  above. 

This  was  the  first  the  wretched  man  knew  of  the 
presence  on  the  Altessa  of  the  woman  he  had  so 


TWO   WIVES  275 

outraged  and  scorned.  His  face  paled,  and  a  great 
fear  took  possession  of  him. 

Slowly  he  saw  her  hand  creep  into  the  bosom  of 
the  loose  white  laces  of  her  gown.  Something  glis- 
tened in  the  sunlight.  Then  a  cry  burst  from  her 
lips  startling  all  on  board. 

Hastily  rushing  to  her  side  they  looked  where 
her  shaking  finger  pointed. 

An  empty  boat  was  gently  rocking  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  sea. 


THE  END 


.yBRARy  FACILITY 


A     000  038  806     6 


